


Anchors Aweigh

by CuriouslyCunning (Dizzydodo)



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Dubious Consent, Free! Kink Meme, Historical Inaccuracy, Kinbaku, Knifeplay, Light breathplay, Multi, OT3 Party- My Cabin or Yours?, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Supernatural Elements, That doesn't even begin to cover it, Threesome - M/M/M, Water Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 22:32:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 95,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/958350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dizzydodo/pseuds/CuriouslyCunning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin and his crew encounter a thriving culture of pearl-hunters that are not inclined to part with their hard-earned wealth. It would simplify affairs considerably if they weren't led by an infuriatingly cunning dark-haired man determined to send Rin and crew packing.</p><p>When Haruka is captured by the very pirates he set out to destroy, he sees an opportunity to turn the tables... pity such things never seem to go according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Landfall

**Author's Note:**

> Dubious consent tag will apply in later chapters, which will in turn be tagged for content.

Makoto smiled to himself when he heard what amounted to an indignant shriek from the upper deck, followed by several creative profanities that could only have come from the mouth of Rin. He curled into the covers of the captain's bed, hiding his smirk when the door was kicked in hard enough that he could feel the reverberations from where he lay.

"Makoto! Wake up!" For perversity's sake, Makoto fluttered his lids, stretching sensually and allowing the linens to fall away from his naked form; he smiled provocatively at his captain, leaning back against the bed in a way calculated to draw attention to the smooth shift of his muscles beneath pale skin.

"Is there something I can do for you, captain?" The tone was perfectly innocent, his eyes promised acts long since forbidden in the civilized world; one of the benefits of being aboard ship was that the captain's word was law, and given how much Rin benefited from his expertise, he wasn't likely to run into any trouble on that score.

Rin's glare was sharp, but he drew a deep breath and lowered his voice before speaking again. "Rei informs me the first mate gave him a heading of South by Southeast before turning in last night. I could swear I set him toward True North. Do you have any thoughts on that, _first mate_?"

Makoto smothered a chuckle at the unmistakable growl beneath the words, knowing full well he was immune from the captain's retribution. "I thought we might have better luck in the South; bright sun, warm waters… and I wanted to see the dolphins."

"The dolphins? I'll draw you a picture and you can keep it by your bedside if you stop countermanding my orders every time my back is turned!"

"Nagisa didn't think you would mind." Makoto rose from the bed, easily locating his neatly folded shirt and pants and shrugging into them quickly.

"Nagisa is a lunatic who enjoys fucking with me more than you do." Rin's eyes narrowed dangerously when Makoto slipped his arms around his waist, drawing him in for one last kiss before beginning his duties.

"I doubt that. Though as captain, if you feel any sort of discipline is necessary- you know I'm always available."

The quirk of Rin's lips assured him all was forgiven, if not forgotten.

"Land ho!"

Rin jerked away, already bolting for the door with his first mate following closely on his heels.

 

 

After the dimness of the cabin, the sunlight was blinding and Makoto shielded his eyes from the unforgiving glare, sharing a commiserating grin with Nagisa as they passed on deck. Lunatic he might be, but Nagisa was no fool; he had been the first to point out that there were resources to be had on any of a dozen micro islands scattered on a southerly heading. Rei had calculated the odds of finding a colony on one of those islands to be upwards of seventy percent… and colonies meant loot.

Rei was waiting for them at the bow, spyglass in hand. "Just off port, captain. I estimate the distance to be roughly ten point four three nautical-"

"Very good, Rei. How long until we can safely make land?"

"Assuming a good wind and tide, I estimate approximately a half-turn."

"Keep an eye out for any sign of settlements."

"Aye, sir."

Rin smiled widely, turning back to address the few crewmen scattered on deck. "Makoto, I'll be leading the shore party; the ship belongs to Rei until I return- take care with her. Nagisa, you will accompany me ashore; see if you can't find our good surgeon and we'll take him for a stroll too. We'll anchor away from the island, Makoto will see a dinghy prepared. All clear?"

"Aye, sir!"

"With any luck, we'll dine well tonight!"

The answering shout of approval was enough to bolster flagging spirits, and the crew set to preparing with a will, drawing a new strength from their captain's enthusiasm.

 

 

 

As it turned out, neither wind nor tide were inclined to aid in the journey toward the island; Rei's half-turn soon became a full hour, and the crew's collective attitude became one of rapacious anticipation. Makoto was hard-pressed to keep all hands at work when every time he turned his back they began to drift aimlessly, faces brightening as land drew closer; the thought of winter doubtless played some part, no one had forgotten the harsh weather the year past or the days where even hardtack and grog would have been a welcome filling for empty stomachs. The closer they drew to shore, the more the island seemed a veritable paradise of golden sand and luscious greenery; they could re-supply here and be fit to sail for months to come.

Rin licked his lips, tasting salty brine and the tang of blood; though his bearing betrayed no hint of excitement, his smile was sharp with satisfaction. This would be the time to effect repairs and rest his crew for the trials to come. With Autumn slowly waning, storms had become more frequent of late, and while the _Samenoe_ was a sturdy and dependable ship, still she had endured her share of abuse. The Imperial navy would have no such damage to their ships, being permitted to dock at any port without fear of interference, and if they were not prepared to meet the threat of Imperial bounty hunters they could all end up dangling from the mainmast of an enemy's ship.

Makoto slipped up beside him, quiet as a cat, and Rin's hand flew to the hilt of his knife without thought only to be caught in a firm grip and pressed gently away. "He hasn't followed us. The horizons are clear in every direction; I think he must have been blown off course during that squall."

"You have an uncanny knack for divining my thoughts."

"I was nearly executed once for keeping a familiar spirit; it is nothing more than a thorough understanding of human nature."

"Damned uncanny, but I agree. We have time; provided the island seems safe I will permit a shore leave- I have neither the time nor the patience for a mutiny."

Makoto's chuckle was far from reassuring, "Give any mutineers to Nagisa for target practice."

"Or avoid the problem entirely by approving a shore leave."

"It is not the work they are objecting too, it is the lack of excitement. Our last successful raid gained us nothing more than a timid church-mouse for ship's surgeon."

"That's what he would like you to think. _I've_ seen the way he polishes his scalpels, and I tell you one day he will remember they are good for more than lancing wounds. Besides, I'm growing rather fond of him."

"I think you may be over-estimating him, but time will tell."

"Malpractice and conduct unbecoming an officer; there's a story there, and I'll have it out of him before the year is through. There are more important matters that weigh on me now, though; how are our stocks? Have you heard any stirrings of discontent among the hands?"

Makoto sighed softly, leaning back against the ship's side until it groaned ominously. "There is concern that Seijuurou may find us, and then there will be altogether too much excitement; the _Samenoe_ took a thorough beating last time, if she comes apart beneath our feet… well, she's not so bad as that, but there are a few minor repairs I would feel more comfortable making." Makoto shrugged, "No, I do not think you are truly in danger of mutiny now, the time for that was when Sei had us trapped between the currents and the storm-front; not one of them thought to seize the opportunity, but it goes without saying that every last one of them would sell you out in exchange for a pardon if Seijuurou thought to offer it."

"Then we had best ensure he cannot catch us. We'll need pitch and timber, but I don't think there will be any lack of that." Rin gazed out over the water to the clumped trees set back a ways from the shore.

"I don't think he'll be far behind."

"No." Rin muttered, "We should conclude our business here quickly; every moment I look out and don't see a trireme looming in the distance comes as a surprise. I thought he would have run us down as soon as the storm passed. If he were to catch us at anchor, we would be no match for his forces."

"I don't think Nagisa would agree with you, and Rei knows routes the imperials would not dare to take. Even should they come, we have a respectable chance at escape." Makoto paused to eye the shoreline, calculating its distance from the ship, "We're near enough now, I suggest we make our way to the dinghy."

"By all means, let's be off."

 

 

 

Nagisa glanced back to the captain and first mate, both seemingly absorbed in their conversation near the aft-end of the ship. Perfect, that left him at least a little longer to dabble with his favorite crewman.

He glided swiftly across the deck to Rei, taking in the man's rigid stance and worried gaze; it was a failing of everyone aboard this ship that they could not help but to take everything deathly serious. Rei, at least, had him to lighten the mood.

Rei started when he felt the lithe body pressed to his back; Nagisa's warm skin sent a bolt of pleasure through him, but there was work to be done and he studiously ignored the prying fingers determined to seek out every bit of exposed skin.

Nagisa ran his palms suggestively over Rei's coat, up his back and down again over his ribcage; "What are we watching for?" Had he been only an inch or so taller he would have pressed his mouth to that reddening ear, traced his tongue along the curve of it.

"The captain has given orders that I am to watch for any signs of life; seeing this place… it's hard to believe there _wouldn't_ be a colony of some sort."

"Hmm." Nagisa allowed his hands to drift lower, over his lover's hips, down his calves… Rei jumped as though scalded, giving him a reproving look only slightly diminished by the charming blush spreading over his high cheekbones.

"I don't see anything, and since I'm going to be gone so long-"

"A few hours at most."

"I think you owe it to me to make up for all the time we're going to lose."

"This…this is neither the time nor the place." Rei took a step backward, careful to keep Nagisa in his sights.

"We have a few minutes more-"

"Approximately ten until we can lower the dinghy."

"Then let's take this to my quarters-"

"Captain Rin gave orders that I was to keep watch!" Nagisa could see Rei's sense of duty battling with his selfishness; he considered it _his_ duty to encourage Rei's occasional moments of selfishness.

Nagisa shrugged for all the world as though Rei's refusal didn't bother him. "You're right I suppose." He could see his lover begin to relax, the tension leaving his shoulders and the blush slowly receding from his face- that simply wouldn't do.

He moved faster than the eye could follow, darting forward to hook an leg behind Rei's knee and pull him off balance, shoving him easily onto the railing. "I guess we'll just have to stay up here so you can keep watch."

"Nagisa! That is not-" Oh my, he _was_ blushing; Nagisa followed the spreading color down Rei's neck, making quick work of the buttons Rei insisted on closing all the way to the top of his throat. Probably because he did not like the rest of the crew to see the marks Nagisa left on his pale skin each night; Nagisa however, drew a great deal of satisfaction from seeing the open jealousy on the faces of the crew, and truth be told he was more than a little angry Rei continued to hide the evidence of his possession away.

He bit down roughly at the join of neck and jaw, delighting in Rei's shrill gasp; pity he wouldn't have the time to see just how far that blush had spread, but he could hear Makoto approaching and Rin would not be far behind.

Nagisa pulled back, straightening Rei's clothes before the navigator had even regained his balance, slanting a glare at him when his slender fingers rose to clasp the buttons up his neck again. "Leave it. I intend to finish this as soon as I return. I don't want any of _them_ forgetting it." He gestured to the sailors on deck, all pretending they hadn't seen anything that had transpired.

Rei nodded, blushing hotter if that was possible. He was irresistible in these shy moods, and Nagisa was reminded of the sheltered young man he had been when he first boarded the ship, so eager to prove himself and willing to be debauched.

Nagisa allowed a final kiss, grinning when Rei ran a carefully tended fingernail down his spine until he arched into the other man's body. Oh yes, Rei had always been a quick-study, and for all his soft blushes and vociferous protests there was a mind every bit as cunning and a need every bit as sharp beneath his unruffled facade.

"Wait for me." Nagisa whispered.

"Yes, sir."

"If the two of you are finished fucking around, there's an island waiting to be explored, provisions to gather, repairs to make and why the hell hasn't someone fetched Nitori?" Rin snapped.

"I'll do it!" Nagisa crowed, scuttling off below-deck to fetch their reluctant healer.

Rin turned to smirk at Rei, "I'll bring him back in one piece, Rei, or more likely the reverse."

Rei nodded firmly, turning back to scan the horizon once more.

 

* * *

 

 

The first touch of soft sand after months of nothing but the hard deck beneath their feet was enough to make Nitori give a little skip of joy, worried frown giving way to a smile. Rin raised a quelling brow, but Makoto only smiled indulgently, kneading his toes in the warmth subtly.

"Do we part ways to cover more ground? Rei reports no sign of life." Nagisa's internal struggle to stay still was almost a palpable presence; Makoto shared a glance with Rin, the two communicating far more efficiently in silence.

"Nitori is with me; Nagisa, you will accompany Makoto to the east."

"I'd rather go west." Nagisa's plea was dangerously close to a petulant whine, and Rin's patience had already been worn perilously thin.

"The only damn reason you want to go west is because I ordered you to go east, and east you will go or I will feed you to the first shark I see!"

"Aye, sir!" Nagisa snapped a crisp salute, for all the world as though he hadn't just been ready to raise hell over a simple matter like the direction his party would take. His grin was too self-satisfied by half, and Rin made a mental note to assign him galley duty sometime in the very near future; an afternoon scrubbing pots might be just the thing to make him appreciate what freedom he did have. Then again, perhaps it would be better not to put ideas into his head with all those knives and sharp implements lying around unguarded.

"Nitori?"

The ship's surgeon jumped, spinning quickly. "You're sure this place is uninhabited?" His voice was subdued, as always, but there was an urgency in it that was uncharacteristic of the manling.

"Rei said so; he doesn't make mistakes." Nagisa's voice was flat and nothing short of a threat.

"What makes you ask, Nitori?" Makoto seemed to have appointed himself the protector of the surgeon for the time being, and fortunate for him- Nagisa's glare was downright murderous.

"It's only that… I thought I might have seen movement, I'm sure I was mistaken." Nitori added hastily.

"It comes as no surprise; in a paradise like this, there will be no lack of game. If we're lucky, we may find something other than fish for supper, eh?" Makoto stepped over to Nagisa, one work-roughened hand closing about his forearm to pull him away. "We'll rendezvous at this point in a couple hours, captain?"

Rin nodded, searching the area Nitori had been eyeing. The surgeon was a little timid at times, but he wasn't given to exaggeration or daydreams.

"Two hours precisely, mark it."

Makoto dragged Nagisa away, the latter still scowling over his shoulder at a distracted Nitori.

 

 

"I know I saw something, and it was far too big to be game."

"A boar, perhaps?" Rin murmured, setting off along the shoreline; he wasn't comfortable entering the shadowed expanse of forest before them until he knew for a certainty nothing was waiting to descend on their unprotected heads.

"It's possible, but it seemed too fast for-"

"Those little bastards aren't slow. Rei nearly lost his leg to one the year before last, didn't even notice it until it was right on top of him."

Nitori's eyes widened, "He fought it off?"

"Nagisa is a very good shot-something you would do well to remember- he took it through the eye before it could clamp its jaws shut. We managed to stretch the leftovers for nearly a month, and I think Rei took a greater than average pleasure in devouring it."

Nitori giggled nervously and Rin clapped him roughly on the shoulder, pushing him to move a little faster. "We have a lot of ground to cover, save your breath for walking."

"Yes. Yes, of course. Rin?"

"Hm?"

"There are supplies I need in sickbay; catgut, lye-"

"I can't remember the last time someone entered your domain; I know you brought supplies aboard with you, where have they gone if you have not been using them on the crew?"

Nitori refused to even acknowledge the question, and Rin was half-tempted to threaten him with a keel-hauling, but there was really no telling how Nitori might react when threatened. Certainly, the first time Rin had cornered him he had agreed to board a pirate's vessel and sign his life away as ship's surgeon, but there was that time Nakamura had gone into his sickbay looking for a scrap of fresh meat and emerged hours later sobbing with fear and swearing he was a changed man.

Better not to push Nitori for answers until he knew the young man's history. Rin cast a surreptitious glance in his direction and was met with a beatific smile; thank all the gods the boy had some affection for him, Rin genuinely pitied the bastard that thought him a weakling, if he was feeling merciful, he might tell Nagisa as much before they went back to the ship.

Or maybe that was something he should learn on his own.

 

 

Nanase Haruka watched the invaders from the shadows of the tree-line, drew back swiftly when the red-haired one glanced directly at him, locking eyes for a split second. The ship was unfamiliar to him; he was certain it had never been in these waters before, but he knew the type- crafted for speed over any other consideration, its crew heavily armed with an assortment of close and mid-range weaponry… that meant corsairs.

No matter, his people had been forced to repel daring raiders many times these past few years; every season saw more of them visiting this little island paradise, and every one of them reluctant to leave empty-handed after they had seen the wealth it had to offer. The decision now was whether he should confront them directly, offer whatever supplies they might need in exchange for their hasty leave-taking, or if subterfuge was the wisest course of action.

He watched the red-haired one moving away, back turned to him; that one was doubtless the captain, he had seen the others incline their heads in deference, watched the way they unconsciously leaned toward him to hear his words. If he intended to make an appeal, he would have to address himself first to that one; alternatively, if a warning was in order, the captain should logically be his first target.

Haruka leaned back against a tree, its rough bark abraded his sensitive skin; truly it was sheer luck he had been here in time to witness the arrival of this newest threat. On any other day he would have delayed his swim until the evening when the harsh sunlight would not punish his pale skin for long hours spent in the cool water, but a growing sense of restlessness had pulled him to the shore before he'd even realized where his legs were carrying him.

Tugging thoughtfully at the strand of pearls looped about his wrist, Haru moved farther back into the forest toward his village. There was no reasoning with pirates; profit and violence were the only languages they comprehended, and so they must be addressed in like terms. He would return with reinforcements, and pass down an ultimatum they could not fail to understand.

If these pirates chose to ignore an honestly given warning, they would do so at their own peril. Tables could be turned, the odds evened- ships could even be scuttled with adequate preparation.

Immeasurably comforted by the thought, Haru drifted between dappled shade and sunlight, already laying the groundwork of a plan sure to send these parasites scuttling from his home with nothing more than what they already possessed.

And if they had a little less, well, they should be grateful to have fewer worldly goods to burden their tarnished consciences.


	2. Captured

Haruka raised placating hands to quell the dull roar that greeted his pronouncement. "We do not have time to debate the merits of this plan as opposed to any other; every moment I spend here speaking with you is one in which these invaders draw nearer. Therefore-"

One voice dared to rise above the others, cutting him off mid-sentence, "Therefore you're asking us to accept your assessment without question?" The young woman snorted, "You think we have the time to construct a pike pit and sand-traps but you don't have the time to justify your decision? The former will take _hours_ , the other _minutes_."

Haruka shot her a dark glance, Miho Amakata had been a valuable ally those few times he found himself in direct conflict with the collective will of the council of elders; he knew she could also prove a tenacious foe, and given her reputation Haruka knew he didn't dare court her ill-favor- not in a time of crisis.

"If you see another-"

"In fact, I do." The quality of Amakata's smile warned him she had been waiting for just such an invitation. "There were four, you said, and only one of them followed the one you believe to be their captain. Send scouts for the other two, bring them here and hold them hostage; we will offer to release them as soon as we have ensured any other potential threats are safely aboard their vessel."

"That would mean bringing them here." The thought was profoundly unsettling, bringing the corsairs into their village, allowing them to note any tactical advantages… it was too risky.

"Obviously you were anticipating as much anyway, why else would we have to dig the pits?" Amakata raised a challenging brow, cocking her hip in a signature gesture of defiance.

"If we are going to seek their enmity, we may as well simply bring the captain here personally and inform him of the ultimatum; no need to bother ourselves with imprisoning his underlings when we may appeal directly to authority." There was a biting irony in Haruka's words that his erstwhile heckler either didn't notice, or chose to ignore.

"Marvelous idea. Let's take them all- if a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing completely is it not?"

"Of course… provided we get to work on the pits and traps immediately. There is always a chance this display of power will _not_ be well-received; we must prepare accordingly."

Haru could see from the nods around him that at last he had found an acceptable compromise; no one was truly satisfied with the measures they had elected to take, but now that a plan was in place the tension began to ease gradually.

"I will take a small party and-"

"I'll take responsibility for your captain." Amakata cut in again, Haruka caught himself grinding his teeth and forcibly clenched his jaw in the hopes that his thoughts on the matter would not escape.

"And I will take his other subordinates. I would suggest a minimum party of three to accompany you. Two to one are better odds."

Amakata smiled, "Hardly fair, though."

"Fairness must be the least of our concerns. Our priority now is to get these scum off our island as quickly as humanly possible; it's our only chance, otherwise they will only return in greater numbers and presumably with better equipment."

"I take your meaning." Haru released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, thankful for the new solemnity haunting Amakata's features- they were both intimately familiar with what a failure to act could cost them.

"It's settled then; I'll leave the selection of your crew to you, everyone left behind should begin defensive preparations immediately." He watched with satisfaction as the small gathering dispersed, each attending to their duties as though it had been rehearsed a hundred times over.

This was the first ship to put into shore all summer, and Haru had worried that they had been caught flat-footed, but his concern has obviously been misplaced- memories of seasons previous guided their actions, and he knew they would be ready for trouble when it finally found them.

Or vice versa.

 

 

* * *

 

"You're really boring, you know that?" Nagisa chirped, nimbly hopping over a tree root that dared to crop up in his path. "Rin would let me clear these plants out."

Makoto's pleasant smile never once faltered, though if Nagisa had known the vengeful thoughts racing behind those calm eyes, he might have reconsidered his tactics.

"I'm sure there are many things Rin would allow that I will not, seeing as you are with me, I am the only one whose whim need concern you."

Nagisa hissed, "Come, Mako. It would make it easier to move if I could clear a few branches away, a little bit of underbrush-"

"It would make us easier to track."

"By what, ghosts?" Nagisa laughed aloud, "The shades of drowned sailors angered because we're not dead yet? I didn't take you for a superstitious ninny."

Makoto ignored the jibe, scanning their surroundings assiduously instead. "My concerns are altogether more corporeal. This little forest could hide much from view, and I'm willing to wager even Rei couldn't venture a guess as to what's beyond it. We should have circled the shore at least once before making land."

Nagisa's gusty sigh drew his attention away from the path, as he was certain it was meant to do. "We're not getting anywhere like this. Let me climb a tree, I'll look out and see if I can't spot any signs of habitation. It'll be quicker… and more fun."

"All right, just don't do anything foolish." Nagisa brightened until Makoto added his provisions, "Foolish being defined as yelling from the treetop, carving your initials into the bark, deliberately antagonizing the wildlife-"

"In other words, nothing fun."

Now it was Makoto's turn to smile, "Precisely. I wouldn't like to see you hurt." His tone left it very much in question whether it would be Nagisa's actions that would get him hurt, or Makoto's reaction afterward. Fortunately, Nagisa nodded his agreement before scurrying up the nearest tree with branches sturdy enough to support his weight.

Makoto caught his breath, watching the graceful ascent with something approaching awe; Nagisa had a gift for revealing surprising talents at the moment best suited to impress.

He ceased to be impressed the moment Nagisa reached his goal. "Mako! I can see the world!"

Of course he waited until he was out of arm's reach before flying in the teeth of a direct order; no matter, what was done was done. "But do you see any signs of others?"

"Nothin'!" Nagisa shouted down, he drew his knife and hurriedly carved his initials into the branch before Makoto thought to object. Oh yes, someone was begging for a night with the Captain's Daughter.

"You want me to put your mark up here too?"

"I want you to get down. _Now._ "

Nagisa complied, chortling with good humor; the sound did little for Makoto's already fraying nerves, but to his credit he managed to reign in the worst of his temper when Nagisa alighted at his side.

"What did you think you were doing?" It was more of a muted roar than a whisper.

Nagisa only smiled back serenely, "There's no one here. Why bother with subtlety?"

"I told you… never mind. We're turning back for shore."

"What? We only just started!"

"Rin probably heard your shout from wherever on this blasted island he may be. Do you want me to tell him you defied a direct order?"

Nagisa pursed his lips thoughtfully, and Makoto bit his tongue to keep from growling. "No, I don't think so."

Makoto turned away, rolling his eyes with feeling. One of these days Nagisa would almost certainly be the death of him; his only consolation was that he probably wouldn't have to die alone.

"Why couldn't _I_ have gone with Rin? It's not like the church-mouse would be much good in a pinch anyway."

"Rin doesn't agree, and that "church-mouse" has a name. Use it."

"Nitori. What has he done since we brought him aboard? A few stitches? I could have done that myself."

"Not half as well; it would have left a scar, and you know Rei would hate to have a scar."

"I think it would have suited him."

"You _would_ think that." Makoto's tone was almost fond. "Be that as it may, Nitori is crew now and I expect you to treat him as such."

Nagisa's silence spoke volumes of his intentions; Makoto didn't bother warning him off a second time, Rin would never have brought Nitori aboard if he hadn't thought the man was capable of looking after himself. Maybe he would pay a visit to the infirmary this evening and drop a few friendly hints, the better to prepare the novice for Nagisa's particular brand of mischief. Unless Makoto missed his guess- and he rarely did- Nagisa was still a little peeved with Nitori for his perfectly reasonable questions; it would only be fair to warn the surgeon about possible reprisals.

Makoto stiffened at the soft _click_ of Nagisa's pistol; "You think I could maybe get in a little target practice before we have to board the ship again?"

"Save your shots in case we need them; I'm still on edge."

As though to confirm his suspicions, a branch ahead creaked. Makoto winced when Nagisa leveled his pistol in that direction, squinting down the stock. "Maybe I'll have find a target after all." He murmured.

"Perhaps. Advance with caution." Makoto devoutly hoped that had been nothing more than an animal, but his skin was prickling unpleasantly as though prying eyes were watching. Motioning to Nagisa to hold his position, he moved a little farther away, eyeing the foliage uneasily. He was satisfied now that returning to shore was the best option; they could rendezvous with Rin a little early and keep as near to the water as possible while they resupplied with only those items on open ground.

"Nagisa would you-"

"No can do, chief."

Makoto turned back, eyes widening in disbelief. Nagisa stood precisely where he had left him, but his hands were empty, his own gun leveled at the center of his forehead by a tall dark-haired man, lithe and impossibly quiet to have taken them unawares.

"Who are you?" Makoto's voice came as little more than a whisper.

"I don't know how things are done where you're from, but here it's customary to give one's own name first." As if to punctuate his point, he pressed down on the hammer, smirking at the ominous _clink_.

"Tachibana Makoto. He is Hazuki Nagisa."

"Nanase Haruka. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Now, if you would be so good as to come with us?" He started to gesture toward the figures that seemed to have melted out of their surroundings, but Nagisa struck quicker than a viper, kicking out at their ambusher's legs so that he was forced to jump away, gun nearly falling from his fingers in haste.

Nagisa flew forward, throwing himself at their attacker before Makoto could even shout a word of warning. With an agile twist, Haruka sent Nagisa sprawling, bringing the butt of the pistol down in a vicious blow that left Nagisa limp and quiet. Well, that was one way to accomplish it, but if Nagisa were seriously harmed, Rin was going to kill this little fool.

"I hope you haven't hurt him too badly." Makoto's voice shattered the heavy silence, and succeeded in drawing the man's attention to himself.

"He'll recover." Haruka's voice was subdued but confident.

"I hope so." _For both our sakes_.

Haruka gestured to the three men accompanying him. "You two carry him, be careful not to jostle him too much, the headache will be bad enough as is. You."

Haruka gestured to Makoto, "Walk ahead of me, and please, don't try anything like your friend's valiant attempt at escape."

"I won't." Coming from Makoto's lips it sounded more like a threat than a promise.

 

 

 

"Captain."

Nitori's hesitant whisper was enough to penetrate Rin's focus, he turned back solicitously, half expecting the healer to ask for a moment of rest.

"I think we're being followed."

Rin glanced around curiously. "What?"

"I keep hearing things."

"Like the wind, Nitori?" Rin smiled half-indulgently, "If we were being followed, I would know it."

"I suppose 'followed' isn't the right word. More like we're being paced. I'm sure I saw something running to our left a few minutes ago-"

"Probably a bird." Damn Nitori for his rampant paranoia; Rin found he couldn't walk more than three paces without squinting off to his side, trying to catch a hint of the figure Nitori insisted he had seen.

Nearly a half-mile later he was forced to concede that Nitori might not have been merely paranoid after all; twice he had caught a flutter of movement from the corner of his eye, once he had thought he even heard the shift of cloth brushing through undergrowth. Charming; either Nagisa had decided a prank was in order- entirely possible given his track record, but unlikely with Makoto there to advise him- or someone wanted to arrange a trap for them and was only waiting for an opportune moment.

"Nitori, try to keep up." Rin snapped, on edge and regretting the impulse that had made him bring his crew into this overgrown death-trap.

"Captain-"

Rin glared at Nitori threateningly, reaching out to clamp a steadying hand around his arm when he stumbled. "Whatever you have to say can wait until we're back to shore. Let's hope the others aren't having similar problems."

"I don't think it can wait." Nitori's normally lilting voice had taken on a hard quality Rin had never thought to hear from the timid ship's surgeon.

"Unless you have an idea for some way we could double back and kill these bastards before they get the drop on us, it can wait." Rin whispered harshly.

"I don't like being manhandled, Captain." Something in the way he spoke the words made Rin release him immediately.

"As to the other… I think if they wanted us dead we would be dead. I can only conclude that they intend to take us alive-"

"And why would that be a problem, Nitori? Alive means a chance to bargain-"

"I don't like being caged, Rin."

Rin sputtered in shock, it was the first time Nitori had ever dared call him by anything other than his title, and to think they didn't even have a cask of grog handy to celebrate this new boldness.

"Don't worry about it, we're going to circle back to shore and get the hell off this island as soon as Mako and Nagisa return. We can come back with reinforcements and gather what supplies we need then."

"But I-"

"Shut _up_ , Nitori. We're fine." Fuck. Where the hell had their shadows gone? In his distraction he had forgotten to account for their movements; assuming they survived this, he was going to have a talk with Nitori about the proper time for confessions as opposed to the time for silence.

"Captain. Ahead."

Rin focused his gaze ahead, spotting a smaller figure sitting on an outcropping of roots, chin cradled in her hands. She smiled widely when he locked eyes with her, standing to dust off her loose pants and approach.

"I take it you're the captain of the vessel off shore?" Her easy manner threw Rin off, and he could see Nitori running his fingertips over a seam he suspected might be concealing one of those damn scalpels.

"If I am?"

"Then I need you to come with me."

"No." Nitori murmured, and Rin could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. They'd found the poor bastard in the brig of his ship, locked in there for so long his eyes had watered at even the morning sunlight. This was probably a case of his bad memories surfacing, and he didn't seem to be coping well at all.

"No?" She cocked her head, "I assumed you'd want to make contact with the rest of your crew. I'm sure Haruka has them in hand by now." She smiled gaily, for all the world as if it was their choice and not her compulsion.

"Nagisa and Makoto?" Of course, who else could it be? Rin desperately needed time to consider this new development, even a second could make a difference.

"Pretty names, what are yours?"

"None of your concern." Damn it, Nitori was determined to escalate this situation.

The woman shrugged eloquently, "I'm Miho Amakata, if that makes any difference." Confronted with a solid wall of silence, she soldiered on, "Regardless of your preferences, you _will_ be coming with me."

"Fair enough." He couldn't leave Makoto and Nagisa on their own, as captain it was still his responsibility to get them safely back aboard ship… and once there they could consider the matter of vengeance.

The trouble came when the woman's cohorts stepped out from the trees, eyeing Nitori like he might attack them at the slightest provocation. Rin gestured soothingly to him, seeing the wide eyes and rapid breaths that denoted panic or rage, he couldn't be certain which.

"Nitori, don't. Not now." Nitori glanced to him, nodding once. He allowed himself to be pushed forward, body coiled tightly in on itself; there had to be memories here, Rin hadn't seen him this frightened since they had first hauled him aboard the _samenoe_ and given him the choice of being ship's surgeon or fish food. Nitori had made the right choice, and until now Rin had never had a reason to regret inviting him aboard.

If Nitori fucked this up though, he could still shove him overboard, maybe leave him in the water for an hour or so while his temper cooled and he got his fear under control. He could send Nagisa to do the honors; that was sure to please both of them.

Rin breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Nitori fell into step behind the cheerful woman, studiously avoiding looking too closely at their other companions. For his part, Rin was even kind enough to offer them his obvious weapons; he wouldn't be needing them anyway.

 

* * *

 

Haruka seethed with impatience, tossing aside loose dirt with more force than was strictly necessary. Amakata was nearly an hour late, and he was willing to wager it was because some new flower had caught her eye or she'd wanted to play with her prey a little before closing the trap. Next time, he would accompany her _personally_ and delegate his own task to a likely looking youth.

Their prisoners seemed largely unconcerned with the circumstances, the small one had woken not ten minutes after the blow, loudly demanding to see the bastard that had laid him out; the other one with the deceptively patient smile had only whispered something softly in his ear and they had both fallen quiet.

He'd taken the precaution of assigning them a guard posted at the door to the hut in the farthest corner of the makeshift square. Makoto's eyes had been entirely too knowing when they passed over the perimeter, Haru knew better than to think he didn't understand what all these preparations meant- and the way his gaze had sharpened at the sight of the pearl strands about his wrist did not bode well.

Why hadn't he thought to take it off before he went to collect the nuisances? It had become such a part of him these past few years he hadn't given it any thought, and now it looked like yet more difficulty might come of it.

He bent to his task again, shoving the errant thoughts aside for later examination. Almost as though she had heard his mute summons, Amakata materialized before him, grinning widely.

"Suzuki says you had a little trouble bringing your marks in. Did you get those scrapes looked at?" She gestured to the small abrasions down his arms, "If you didn't, I brought a surgeon, apparently."

"It certainly took you long enough."

"And look, not a mark on me. I think it's because you lack charm- you're too serious, I've always said that was your greatest failing."

"Where are they?"

"Your myriad failings?" She quipped, "Or my prisoners?"

"You could start with the whereabouts of the captain and proceed from there." Haruka offered with mock generosity.

"I left him with yours."

"You what?" Haruka bolted out of the shallow pit he'd been constructing, frantically wiping away any trace of dust. "They're going to talk."

"We can't precisely stop them anyway, and I don't think it matters, but I'll move them if you like."

"No, don't bother. What's done is done. Let's just bring them out and see if we can't impress them with a show of numbers. I take it they're unarmed?"

"I think the one called Nitori is holding out on me- that would be the surgeon I mentioned- but he hasn't been any trouble; otherwise it's all clear."

"Then let's bring them out and see if we can't intimidate them with a show of numbers."

Amakata shook her head slightly, "I don't think so. You know they have more hands aboard that ship, and we're not terribly impressive. Too many children."

"Keep the children away, but I want every able-bodied man and woman present. Tell them to leave any precious goods behind; let's not provoke the predators."

Amakata was gone almost before he had finished the sentence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for being such a tease; originally they were supposed to meet this chapter, but I felt bad for how long it was taking to update so...
> 
> I will try to update sometime this week. :)


	3. Prelude to Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rin proves he's a diplomat- if by "diplomat" one means "hothead".
> 
> Haruka is entirely too cooperative for his peace of mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently, 'survive the week' turned into 'survive the semester'. Yikes.
> 
> Anyway, updates should be more regular from now on with the holidays coming up. ^.^

Makoto was the first on his feet when Rin was shoved unceremoniously into the dank, poorly-constructed hut that apparently would now double as a holding cell. Fine. Rin had seen the inside of more than one prison in his time, and this was nicer than most.

"Captain." Makoto smiled warmly, apparently unconcerned with their circumstances; Rin wished he could say the same for the other two.

On the far side of the hut, Nagisa paced in a tight circle, fingers twitching frenziedly. "They took my pistols. Those sons of bitches took my pistols."

Rin tried to think back to the last time he had seen Nagisa without the matched weapons at his hips- nothing came to mind. They were as much a part of him as his own hands and never more than a few inches from his fingers. It clearly didn't feel any more natural to him than it did to Rin.

Nitori didn't resist the hands that guided him into the room with far more gentleness than had been afforded any of the others that came before. Likely their captors had seen the same fearful posture and youthful face that had so misled Rin when he had first laid eyes on him. Nitori hardly looked any more than a boy, but to be a surgeon of sufficient rank that he had merited his own cell even in disgrace meant that he had no small amount of experience to draw from.

Standing there with his back pressed to the wall and his eyes grown impossibly wide, he didn't look half so threatening as his comrades. His lips moved soundlessly in what might have been prayers or curses, and his slender fingers continued to pluck at the seam of his trousers, doubtless seeking the comforting weight of a scalpel.

Having assured himself that Nitori wasn't about to attempt anything foolish that might bring the guards in to disrupt the gathering, Rin turned to more pressing concerns.

"How long've you been here?"

"Half an hour, give or take ten minutes." Makoto glanced sharply to his companion, "Nagisa, shut up and quit pacing or I will break your legs." All spoken with a level voice, no trace of malice.

It was a wonder Makoto hadn't made a bid for the ship himself after they had first seized it; his temper had ever been more predictable than Rin's own. Of course, when his inhuman control broke, he was prone to truly spectacular displays of fury; one such magnificent outburst had cost him a commission in the imperial navy. Rin counted their loss to be his gain; Makoto was unquestionably his most loyal companion, and a gifted tactician to boot. Rin hoped one day Nitori might begin to show similar skills, having been late of imperial service himself.

Nagisa rounded the hut once more, drawing a dangerously mild look from the first mate, but feigning unconcern. He stopped a few short feet from Nitori to take him in with a contemptuous glance: "Did they cut out the church-mouse's tongue already?"

"This is _not_ the time for petty squabbling." Rin snarled, careful to keep his voice low lest curious ears were listening in. "Nitori, get over here."

Nitori blinked rapidly, hesitated on the threshold for the barest second before he crossed the small space on clumsy legs. "I have a scalpel." He offered, gesturing to the small pocket he'd kept so carefully concealed. How the hell had he managed to slip that one by all of them when they had left the ship? How many more of his clothes had such clever little sheathes tucked into them?

Nagisa was eyeing the surgeon with a new respect, there was a gleam in his eye that suggested he might well be reassessing the doctor. All to the better, the sooner Nagisa stopped hissing at Nitori like an offended cat, the sooner Rin could stop fretting whenever he had to leave the young men alone together.

"Wonderful. We have one weapon between us at least. I suppose we should be thankful they didn't bind us."

Nitori began to thumb the clasp at his wrist, fidgeting guiltily. Dammit. Another one? How many sharps did the doctor have stashed about his person? Hopefully enough to arm all of them; the matter of whether a ships' surgeon should be armed at all could be addressed as soon as they had the deck of said ship beneath their feet.

"Odds are four to untold dozens; I don't think they saw a need for greater precautions." Makoto smiled easily, his chuckle seemed entirely unaffected. What the hell, maybe Nagisa and he were the only ones with any idea of how much trouble they were in- Nitori and Makoto both seemed reasonably comfortable with the situation.

"I don't think they will be leaving us alone for long. They've seen our ship-"

"It's a little big." Nagisa murmured, good humor returning as quickly as it had left him.

Makoto cuffed him gently, "Listen to your captain."

"Aye, sir."

"No use pretending we're anything other than exactly what they're thinking. We'll say if we don't report in other patrols will come looking. They let us go, we come back and burn this place to the ground. Might as well make off with some of the shinies while we're at it."

"Simplistic." Nitori murmured, hardly loud enough to be heard over Rin's forced chuckle. 'We can't be certain of how many we'll be up against. You're assuming they would be terrified to challenge us, but they have the advantage of knowing this island while we've only just arrived."

"I think that's the most words you've ever strung together in my presence."

Nitori wilted, drawing his shoulders in on himself even as his fingers began to play with the loose threads again. Just when he had finally grown a backbone. "Stop picking at your damn seam and give Makoto the knife-"

" _I_ should keep the knife." There was an edge of steel beneath the soft words that Rin didn't care to test now. Maybe not ever.

"Fine. You keep the knife and hack us out of here if it gets ugly. Guess you're better with the little blades anyway. Any other thoughts you want to share?"

"We're out of time. They're coming."

"Wh-" Speak of the devil. The dark-haired woman swept into the room, taking in their suspiciously guileless faces with a knowing gaze.

"I suppose you've all had a chance to talk?" Not one of the crew spoke, but she nodded as though she had read their thoughts. "Good. Come with me."

Nitori fell into step behind her without a murmur of protest, not even glancing to his captain for confirmation. Rin didn't think to protest; seeing as he was the one with the weapons, it was probably best he remain closest to the threat.

He half-wished they could have made some daring escape, just to thumb their noses at their captors. It was humiliating, being disarmed by a woman who hadn't even had the decency to pretend it was difficult, being held for any length of time in some worm-eaten hut he could probably have knocked over with a thoughtless sneeze, and now being forced to follow the woman- _Amakata_ \- wherever she chose to lead them on this merry chase.

Between the four of them there was no question they could have taken the two scrawny guards at the door, but how many more would they have had to face to make their escape? Better to cooperate, gather whatever information they could before deciding on a course of action. That didn't make it any easier to swallow his pride and keep walking as they stepped out into the open.

Either the locals would decide to be rid of them immediately, in which case they would just have to trust Nitori knew what he was doing… or they would release their captives so they could return to the relative safety of the ship to make any decisions regarding what action should be taken.

The _Samenoe_ still required several crucial repairs; it would be a few days before they could safely leave shallow water- plenty of time to decide whether it was worth it to attempt plundering the island's inhabitants. It would all depend on their numbers and defensive position. Having seen their preparation for the latter, Rin could see it would be no mean feat to take them by surprise, but if the reward were great enough, he was certain to find a way.

Nagisa tugged at his arm insistently, "Rin, that bastard has my pistols-"

"Not now, Nagisa." One, two, three… maybe a score all told? Hard to tell with so many scattered about their chores, darting in and out of small shelters as they ran about their business. A small group had gathered before one of the larger structures, whispering among themselves, shifting nervously. One particularly brave child laid down the basket he was carrying to gawk openly at their disgrace from as far a distance as he could manage.

Rin snarled, showing enough teeth that it sent the brat scrambling for his basket again. Makoto tsked disapprovingly, ignoring Nagisa's hooted laugh; Nitori didn't so much as twitch.

Makoto leaned forward, "Do you see that? They're all-"

"Haruka! You want 'em, I got 'em."

 

 

From the corner of his eye, Rin caught a flash of movement and turned quickly, eager to see exactly whom he would be up against.

He was tall, slender without being soft, and too pale by half for this sunny clime. That wasn't what had caught Rin's eye though; he'd seen his fair share of beauties- men and women of every background, and after taking care to sample everything offered willingly to him, Rin had begun to think the sight did not exist that could steal his breath.

Except that he didn't realize he'd stopped breathing until Makoto hummed softly; the same pleased sound he made whenever his eye fell on any object he coveted.

Rin could relate. There was a grace to the youth's movements that was almost inhuman, a preternaturally calm mask on his face that Rin was willing to wager hid turbulent depths treacherous as any current. As he drew nearer still, Rin's gaze caught and held on his blue eyes, a shiver of awareness racing through him.

No. This man couldn't be human, but that shouldn't be his concern at the moment. Freedom, crew, ship, repairs- in that precise order, no allowances made for this unexpected turn of events. He couldn't even bring himself to arrange his features into a falsely charming smile designed to put his prey at ease.

It would be no use anyway, Rin had the sense this man would see through him. When he didn't speak, Makoto stepped forward instead, grinning openly. "Captain, this is Nanase Haruka, you may remember him as the one responsible for apprehending us?" Rin pointedly ignored the undertone of exasperation, almost visibly shaking himself out of his reverie.

"Matsuoka Rin, captain of the ship you are endangering by holding us here. This is our ship's surgeon, Aiichiro Nitori; you met the others when you unjustly detained them, I'm sure? What was the cause for that again?"

He could hear Makoto's stifled sigh behind him; well too bad, if Mako had wanted diplomacy he should have tried talking this out himself rather than involving anyone else. Rin's idea of diplomacy more closely resembled that of Nagisa; superior firepower, and lots of it. A matter of taste, really; to his mind, diplomacy was an extension to warfare, not an end in and of itself.

Mako could feel free to debate that with him as soon as they had returned to the comfort of his well-appointed cabin rather than this forsaken island.

Haruka raised an elegant brow, eyes wandering in every direction before they settled on Rin once more. "In what way is your ship in any danger? You're in the shallows and the tide can't dash it against non-existent shoals. Unless you're referring to some other form of danger? A scout ship maybe? One designed for culling pirate vessels? That _would_ be a concern."

Despite the scorn dripping from every word, his face betrayed none of his thoughts; it was infuriating for man that knew his every emotion showed plainly on his own face. Rin knew well he had no gift for subterfuge, and for this smug bastard to smirk knowingly at him while he laid waste to any argument Rin was prepared to make- it was enough to make even the coldest blood boil.

"Fuck you," Nagisa chirped brightly; coming from his lips, it sounded more like a benediction; likely he was too fixated on acquiring his weapons once more to pay any mind to the proceedings.

"Very eloquently expressed." Makoto murmured under his breath, slanting a murderous glare at their impetuous mate.

"All right, fine. There's every possibility we're privateers-"

" _Pirates_." Haruka corrected, storm clouds gathering on his brow.

Was it an illusion born of unease or had everyone within earshot sidled a little closer? A score and two, estimating conservatively, to four with one weapon between them while the hulking gentleman with the scarred chest across the path held Nagisa's guns… Nitori had better be _gifted_ with that scalpel or they were all dead.

Rin cast an assessing eye back at him, saw a glint of metal in Nitori's sleeve as he shifted just so… ah, making a play for Amakata. Clever. A hostage was about the _only_ way to salvage this bloody affair if these people hated pirates as much as it seemed.

"There's every possibility we're _privateers_ , but we had no quarrel with you. Why go to the trouble of bringing us all the way here and _pissing me the hell off?_ "

No reaction. Rin would have given the sum total of all his possessions to see even so much as a smirk on that smooth face, but no such luck.

"You were trespassing-"

"We were foraging!"

"For your next bounty?"

"Have you seen the condition of my ship? We put in for supplies, and would have left just as quickly as we arrived if you hadn't delayed us."

Nitori tipped him a subtle nod, fingertips dancing again with an eagerness that was far from reassuring. Rin hoped he knew better than to kill the woman; that would prove the final straw in this already hostile talk.

"By all means, return to your ship; we will not hold you." Relief, written plain as day across Haruka's face for a split second; what did he have to fear?

Enough. This was yet another item to add to a steadily growing list of topics they would have to discuss once they were safely aboard ship.

"But your weapons will remain here." That was it. The cue for all hell to break loose.

Unusually subdued until that moment, Nagisa came to life, breezing past Rin before he could do more than shout an unheeded warning. Makoto dragged him back simultaneously, planting himself between Rin and any potential threats. The woman shrieked into his ear as Nitori gracefully slid behind her, kicking out her knee even as his scalpel pressed ever so delicately into her pale skin.

Makoto cried out in surprise when Haruka feigned a blow toward his face only to duck low and go for his solar plexus at the last minute. Nagisa was too busy shrieking war-cries to hear Mako's call for aid, but damned if the rest of the people in the square were as inattentive.

All in a matter of moments, the groups had neatly exchanged hostages, and not a man was present that wasn't bruised or cut in some way. Save for Nitori, still calmly menacing with that wickedly sharp blade he had pressed in just hard enough to leave a thin, red welt.

"Stop." He bit out, and after glancing in his direction, Haruka immediately fell back, raising a hand in a gesture meant to hold back the people Rin was certain would gladly rend he and his crew limb from limb if they dropped their guard for even a moment.

Nagisa struggled in the grip of the hulking brute that had held his pistols, legs flying and teeth gnashing like some sort of wild creature. Normally such a display guaranteed no one would lay a hand on him. His current captor was entirely unimpressed with the charade.

Makoto stepped back, eyes locked on Nagisa's struggling form even as his hand curled in the fabric of Rin's coat. "Exchange?" He whispered.

"My thoughts exactly."

Nitori yelped as Amakata's heel dug into his foot, pressing as hard as her weight would permit. "Let me go and I'll make it stop."

Holy hell, Rin hadn't thought humans were capable of mimicking a predator's threatening growl quite so well as that. He certainly hadn't expected to hear it from the throat of a woman that had been all smiles and laughter not twenty minutes past.

Of course, most crewmen looked at Nagisa and saw a golden angel until the first time he lost his temper in their presence. Rin would be the first to admit appearances could be deceiving.

Haruka shifted closer, ignoring Makoto's warning glare, circling around them as though considering the best angle to press his attack. Rin pinned his shoulders back and grinned triumphantly.

"Look at that, now I have something of _yours_. Let's trade. Give me my crewman-with all his attendant parts, the weapons included, and I'll give you… _Amakata_ , wasn't it?"

Judging from the severity of the dark youth's reaction, they had to be lovers. That once-calm face twisted in a brief snarl, just enough to show Rin that his initial guess had been correct- there was far more beneath the surface than that false serenity he wore so well.

"Done. Provided your _surgeon_ is the first to release his charge."

Hardly even a token attempt at negotiation, how disappointing; Rin had been hoping for a few spirited rounds, a chance to see what other expressions he could provoke from his stoic, soon-to-be ex-captor.

"How do I know you'll let us all go in one piece? No. Your woman-"

"Who has a _name_ ," she hissed, shifting in Nitori's grip, stifling a wince when the blade dug in a little farther. He needed to hurry, Nitori's face was a study in shades of guilt and shame, a minute longer and he would probably release the hostage himself.

"Your woman accompanies us to shore. We make the exchange there, no foul play or double dealing."

_Ha_. Rin had every intention of seeing to it these bastards paid for the indignities heaped upon his crew. Nothing here looked worth wrecking, but clearly the villagers were protective of _something_ else why go to all the trouble of building a defensive perimeter?

When he found what they held so dearly, he would take it. Then, and only then, would he count himself avenged.

Haruka stopped his circling, dipping his head in assent. Rin didn't like the quirk of his lips when he spoke, " _Done_."

Really, that word could have so many meanings, and that tone said he would care for precisely none of them.

Never had he been more relieved at the thought of seeing his beloved ship, and even his near-mutinous crew of misfits than he was right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Rin and Haruka have a heart-to-heart that leaves both unsatisfied and decidedly uneasy.
> 
> Amakata isn't quite ready to forgive the whole 'hostage for an hour' debacle either. In fact, payback sounds like a marvelous idea, and Haruka has always had a gift for strategy.
> 
> So has Makoto.


	4. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a lesson or two is learned, and planning begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this could use a more thorough editing, but I wanted to get it up in time to say Merry Christmas! :)
> 
> Slight warning for dubcon maybe? Maybe.

Outwardly, Haruka knew his demeanor was the epitome of self-possession; he’d forced his jaw to unclench and blinked rapidly every now and again to assure the look of wide-eyed rage had not returned. Cold fury prickled just beneath his skin, and every time that smug bastard dared to turn and eye him again he felt the anger spike.

The surgeon, Nitori, was cautious with his erstwhile hostage, guiding her carefully around obstacles in the path even as his wicked blade adjusted constantly to keep the vulnerable hollow of her throat within striking distance. When they had set off, Haru had a vague idea of motioning others ahead, orchestrating an ambush to take her back and put an end to these fools that had so casually thwarted his intentions.

They were simply too organized; he had seen the tension between them as they stood before him, bickering without words, communicating only in subtle shifts of their body and veiled glances. Miho herself had said the end of their discussion during their brief captivity had suggested some small amount of enmity between the crew- unfortunately, whatever divisiveness she had sensed had given way to perfect cooperation.

Their captain, Rin, walked ahead beside Nitori, eyes scanning the ground before them and the forestry to their side for any sign of a double-cross. Nitori never wavered in his attention to his captive; Miho had put up a brief struggle not ten minutes into their walk, whereupon the surgeon had promptly kicked out her knee again and placed the scalpel to her eye. His self-possession had been worrisome- not so much as a glimmer of the hesitant prisoner remained.

There had been no more attempts after that, and Haru had promised himself he was going to make the ‘healer’ weep an hour for every quiet tear that had slipped down Miho’s face at the implied threat. She was not a woman to startle easily, and gods all knew she had every right to be terrified.

The one called Makoto trailed behind, walking behind Haru’s own captive, calm now that they were heading back toward their ship. With a few words, Makoto had convinced the small one to cease struggling, and though his gaze was nothing short of murderous, still he hadn’t tried to flee.

That might have had something to do with Goro following just behind, his face showing plainly what he thought of this business.

There was no question in Haruka’s mind but that he was going to have his pound of flesh, and a fair bit of blood to go with it.

He could just see the shore ahead, sand gleaming invitingly in the dimming sunlight; once these corsairs were aboard their ship there was precious little he could do to them personally. The ship, on the other hand, was fair game and a pleasingly large target. A satisfied smile crept across his lips at the thought; if their Captain believed his ship was in sore need of repairs now, how would he react when Haru scuttled her?

It would be singularly difficult to ply the trade of piracy without a sea-worthy vessel, and once the crew was forced to shore he could take a more leisurely vengeance upon them.

Rin turned at just that moment, eyes narrowing as though he had sensed the echo of Haru’s thoughts; perhaps he had, Haruka had taken little pain to conceal them. The captain dropped back slightly, falling into step beside him, “Your face says we’re going to pay for this, but I would remind you that it was not I that provoked this.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Haruka murmured, unperturbed.

Rin bit his lip, only just holding back a frustrated snarl; it was devilishly hard to carry on a fight with an opponent that only regarded his flailing with contemptuous amusement. Given half a chance he’d wipe the self-certainty from that face permanently.

“Personally, I think all this is going well. Nagisa hasn’t bothered your man once- not that I can say the same for our-”

“Do you believe I will allow this to pass unchallenged?”

Rin shrugged eloquently, “Frankly, I don’t see that you have much of a choice. I know your numbers, you don’t know mine. I’m better armed and entirely prepared for any vengeance you care to extract.”

 

Haruka only nodded, a thoroughly unconcerned gesture that set Rin’s teeth on edge. He glanced again to Nitori, verifying that his prisoner was still reasonably compliant. Not that Nitori needed his help subduing her apparently- he had been remarkably quick and surprisingly ruthless at the first sign of struggle.

Once again, the boy had raised himself several notches in Rin’s estimation… no, not fair to call him a ‘boy’; for all his pretty mannerisms, Nitori was no child to be coddled and placated. That had been made abundantly clear today.

They completed the walk to shore in silence; no sooner had they shed the protection of the forest than Nagisa shrugged free of his captor. He was suspiciously good-natured about the debacle, not so much as a threatening hiss. Rin spared a moment to worry for the poor soul that had dared to lay violent hands on him; between him and Makoto they were sure to come up with some diabolical payback.

Haruka’s shoulders flexed as though he were imagining the pleasure of landing a solid punch on Nagisa’s pretty fae. Rin couldn’t blame him, there were times when even he considered knocking Nagisa out for a few hours of peace.

Nitori turned, face pinched and gloomy, but still resolutely keeping an eye on his hostage until Nagisa stepped away, Makoto following behind him.

No sooner had he released her than the damned woman lashed out at his shins; Nitori hissed with pain, jumping back clumsily. If they were going to keep taking him out to shore, Rei was going to have to give him a few lessons in grace. Nagisa’s neutral expression gave way to a grimace of frustration, but his pistols stayed firmly in the belt at his waist- always a good sign.

“I suppose we’re finished here.” Rin remarked, feeling a smirk spread over his features; exactly the expression that had landed him in hot water so many times before, but really, what could they do now besides retreat and lick their wounds? Only a fool would try three against four with the enemy’s ‘camp’ in full view.

Haruka’s answering smile was not reassuring, his words even less so. “Not by half, captain.”

 

“Are you all right?” Haruka reached out a cautious hand to take Mihou’s chin, turning her this way and that to get a look at the angry red welt that had risen along her throat.

“Dead. He’s dead. I will personally end that one.” Her voice was tight, whether with anger or tears Haru couldn’t be sure, perhaps both.

He didn’t bother with false comfort, only squeezed gently before stepping back. “You won’t-”

“I think you should leave that to me-”

“I wasn’t finished.” Curiously, Mihou fell silent. Haruka eyed her with concern; respect was not a quality Mihou Amakata was known for, to be this docile she had to be even angrier than she appeared.

“You’ve never been good at holding grudges. Besides, I’d rather not deal with a host of corpses; they’re going to pay a price for the time and effort they’ve cost us… but ultimately, I want them off this island. I want word to spread that this is not land for the taking and that its inhabitants are not to be trifled with.”

“I suppose it would complicate matters if they were all dead.” Mihou glared after them, jaw working softly while she ground her teeth together. “You’re sure we can’t just make off with the little one? Maybe I could take his good right eye for a keepsake.”

“I was thinking something a little more personal.” Haru could practically see her ears pricking with interest.

“Such as?”

“We cripple the ship. Scuttle her during low tide and leave her floundering just off shore; they’ll have no choice but to effect some quick repairs and make their way to the nearest friendly port.”

Mihou grinned, “I like it. When can we start?”

“Tonight.”

 

Stifling his uneasiness at giving Haruka his back, Rin pushed the others ahead and chivvied them into a jog; for once, Nagisa didn’t bitch about how much he hated running- small blessings. He risked a glance behind them at the small group they had left behind; he knew better than to think they had seen the last of the inhabitants, and evidently Makoto agreed because he jogged steadily beside Rin instead of giving in to his normal habit of sprinting toward ship.

Makoto had always been more comfortable with solid wood beneath his feet than shifting sand, he wouldn’t relax until he was safe aboard ship again. Nitori skipped away from Nagisa’s terribly obvious attempt to trip him, ignoring the bait as per usual. Makoto stifled a chuckle at his stiff-legged gait, nudging Rin playfully as though they weren’t still in hostile territory.

“Someone has to do something about our not-quite-a-church-mouse and his singular lack of grace.”

“Shut up or you’ll embarrass him, and that would be a shame because I am volunteering you for training duty.”

Makoto chuckled, stretching his legs ostentatiously as he loped ahead to place himself between Nagisa and his hapless prey.

“I’ll bet anyone my good pistols Rei spots us first!” Nagisa had to jump quickly to avoid Makoto’s hand.

“He’d better, it’s his job.”

Rin laughed aloud, making a show of it in case their audience was still watching from afar. “You’d take the hands off anyone that tried to collect otherwise.”

Fortunately Rin would never have a chance to test that hypothesis, Rei practically vaulted the railing at first sight of them, visible even as they climbed into the dinghy amidst mostly good-natured ribbing.

“Come on, Nitori, climb off the edge; you look like my maiden-aunt on a day trip. Grab an oar!” Rin tossed an oar, watching with some amusement when Nitori fumbled it and nearly lost his precarious perch on the edge. Gone was the no-nonsense kidnapper of not an hour past. Still, there was hope for him if he could be taught to show that ruthless side a little more often.

“Nagisa, so help you, poke me one more time and I will patch the mainsail with your skin.”

“I could find a use for his organs.” Nitori added, an uncharacteristically bright smile hovering about his lips and a quality in his tone that suggested he might not speaking entirely in jest.

_Good God. I have an honest to heaven lunatic aboard my ship._ Rin sighed deeply, at least he fit in with the rest or them; no one aboard the Samenoe would make a claim to perfect sanity. Truth be told he liked Nitori a little more now for his slightly off-key humor- if it was humor and not a statement of intent. He would have a word with Nagisa once they were safely back, instruct him to meet Nitori in the infirmary and make his apologies; doubtless the two of them would be fast friends in no time.

Bickering and laughing by turns, all of them tense and all of them equally determined to hide it, they made their slow way to the ship giving quiet thanks that the tide was with them. Rin didn’t like to think what might have happened if they had been forced to wait on land for the tide to turn. As far out as the ship was, the island’s territorial inhabitants weren’t likely to try crossing the breadth of water between ship and shore. In these warm waters there would be more to worry about than simply the current.

 

Rei tossed the hemp ladder down himself, watching as Nagisa shoved past all of them and scurried up the rope, practically hurling himself into Rei’s arms.

“Funny thing happened on shore leave.” Nagisa chirped, clinging to Rei’s coat as he helped the others aboard.

Makoto staggered onto deck next and kicked Nagisa’s ankle in a gentle warning, “That’s for the captain to tell. Pipe down.”

Nagisa subsided, confining himself to a playful wriggle of his eyebrows when Rei chanced to throw him a questioning glance.

“Nothing to tell.” Rin snapped, “We had a run-in with a few of the locals you swore didn’t exist-”

“Not fair!

“Shut up, Nagisa. No one’s in trouble. Not Rei’s fault the little bastards camp away from shore.” Rin turned to help Nitori aboard only to find him perching on the railing, as solemn as ever now that they had returned to his once-prison. Damn, he had rather hoped that fey mood would last a little longer.

“Point is, we still need to re-stock and there are still repairs to be made, we’ll just need to be a little more cautious in our handling of it. Then we get the hell out of here before they decide we got off too easy. After we leave them something to remember us by.”

“Then you didn’t see.” Makoto raised a brow, surprise and delight flashing across his features.

“What’d I miss?” Had anyone else dared to point out a lapse of attention, Rin might have lost his temper in a truly spectacular fashion. Ship scuttlebutt had it that Makoto’s exotic tricks kept that temper from ever being directed at him, but in truth it was more a matter of Rin knowing precisely how creative Makoto could be in his counterattacks, and so choosing not to invoke one.

“I think we should discuss it in your cabin. The five of us.” Makoto gestured magnanimously to include Rei, tipping his head in the direction of the captain’s cabin.

“Cabin it is. The hell are you gawking at? Move!”

Nagisa scrambled ahead, dragging Rei with him spiritedly. Nitori waited diffidently until Rin and Makoto stepped ahead, sharing a knowing glance between them; if it made the healer more comfortable to play at helplessness now that they were back aboard ship there was no harm in it. In fact, Rin had an idea or two of how he might use that retiring attitude to his advantage. Judging from the thoughtful look on Mako’s face he was considering the same solution.

Captain Rin’s stateroom was nowhere near so cramped as the crew’s quarters, but with the five of them inside and the door firmly shut it was enough to trigger Nitori’s claustrophobia. He clamped his hands at his sides and bit his tongue gently, breathing through his nose to keep from hyperventilating. It had never been a problem before, being below-deck. The infirmary wasn’t precisely spacious, but given that the only tenants were he and the occasional injured crewman, it had never seemed cramped either.

Four other able-bodied men crowding this close in with Nagisa’s elbow brushing against him as he tried to angle himself for the best view of the enormous map along the Eastern wall… it was everything he could do to keep from choking.

Damn the air was close and hot. _oh God please stop touching me._

“Are you all right?”

Nitori’s fist slammed into a blunt edge as he skittered back, breath leaving him in a panicked rush. Makoto. Only Makoto.

“I’m fine, sir.” Best to err on the side of caution. Makoto wasn’t given to formality, he had given strict orders a handful of times in the past that there were certain words that must never be used with respect to him. Nitori remembered one unforgettable night when Makoto had ended up in the infirmary for a broken finger after he had started a bar brawl. His reason? Another patron had jokingly referred to him as “The master of the ship”. Hopefully he would be too concerned with Nitori’s use of the hated word than with his suddenly pale face.

“You really don’t know how far off the mark you are. One of these days I’ll enlighten you.” His smile was friendly, reassuring. Nitori wondered if his swiftly-contained panic had been noted despite his best effort to avoid it. It was always difficult to tell with him; any other face aboard ship Nitori could read as easily as the Latin his medical texts had been written in, but Makoto’s face might as well have been Greek for all he could decipher of it.

He hated that more than anything.

“Oi, Makoto, quit terrorizing the girl.” Ah, Nagisa. He was the easiest of all of them, never bothering with even the most rudimentary effort to disguise his thoughts. And there were so very many of them, always thinking and considering, a dozen different tangents visible in every twitch of his lips and minute shift of his eyes. For all his bullying Nagisa was easily the safest of all the crew. Ever predictable, ever dependable Nagisa.

 

Nitori stifled his smirk before it could show, knowing that would only draw his tormentor’s attention. It didn’t matter much at this point, Rin and Makoto were already discussing ways to put him into direct conflict with Nagisa. Certainly they saw it as an errand of mercy; for Nitori, it was a nuisance- Nagisa was his only honest foe on a ship full of enemies that desperately pretended to be comrades.

And much to his distress, even Nagisa would do better by him than his former colleagues; such was the price paid for being the only progressive thinker in the Imperial navy.

Nitori barely kept from flinching when Rin yanked him aside, shoving him briskly into a corner while the others gathered around the table. Rei was good enough to slant him an apologetic look, shrugging his shoulders as if to say “What can we expect?” Nitori offered him a genuine smile in return, Ryugazaki Rei was the only honorable man aboard, and Nitori counted himself among the sinning masses.

“Mako, I thought you had something important to say.. Or was that just an excuse to come down here and drain my personal stock of whiskey?”

Rin dropped to the floor, prying up a board to pull out a small flask, “Doesn’t matter really, because we’re draining my stock of whiskey anyway. My nerves could use a little strengthening, and none of you look much better off.”

Makoto rolled his eyes expressively, pushing himself up onto the table to swing his legs jauntily. “Rather than leaving a sign of our passing so to speak, I think we should take something instead.”

“Like what?” Nagisa snorted, “Their firewood? I’m sure that would make a point.”

Nitori winced at his derisive laughter, but Makoto joined in until the ship’s brat subsided, no longer amused at his own wit. Granted, there wasn’t much wit to be amused with, but Nagisa always gave it his best shot.

“I thought as much. None of you saw. Or perhaps Nitori…?”

The surgeon blanched, raising his hands slightly in a gesture of surrender. Whatever retaliation they were planning, he wanted no part of this; enough blood had been shed on his account and at his direction that he had no thirst for more.

“Not even Nitori.” The satisfaction in Makoto’s tone was enough to darken Rin’s countenance. No, his captain did not care much to be left on the outside of any arrangement.

“What didn’t anyone else here see except you, oh wise and ever-watchful Makoto?”

Mako snatched the whiskey from his hand, sipped daintily before speaking a single word. “Treasure.”

A profound silence descended all at once until Nitori swore he could hear the blood pulsing through his ears and his heart pounding bird-fast in his chest.

“The hell kind of treasure are we talking about?” All sign of merriment was gone from their small collective, replaced on every face with the gleam of avarice.

“I can’t be sure, but did you notice how careful they were to stand opposite us, even when we chose to resist? They were protecting something- something they thought it might be worth a pirate’s trouble to seize. Something they thought we might risk an all-out battle for. Nagisa, the man who held you-”

“Goro.” Nagisa growled, shifting forward on the balls of his feet.

Makoto nodded, “He had an earring, several in fact, that he took care to remove before we were taken from our ‘cell’. The one called Haruka had a pale band across his wrist; I think he normally wears a bracelet-”

“Probably just washed up sea-glass. They’ve been living on that island for who knows how many generations now, they don’t know gold from dross.”

“In any other circumstance that might have been true, but this is a common shipping lane for those desperate to evade notice. That and several remarks they made in our presence leads me to believe that not only have they encountered… gentlemen of fortune before, but they have been in direct conflict with them, and that suggests-”

“They’ve got a few baubles worth taking.” Rin finished, beaming proudly at his first-mate.

“It would only be fair to relieve them of it, make sure they don’t have to worry about any nasty visitors again.”

Those smiles. It always meant trouble when Mako and Rin wore those matching wolf-grins; trouble that Nitori would just as soon not be present for. He waited until Makoto paused for another sip of whiskey before bolting out of the room to the relative safety of his little infirmary.

 

“Go after him, Nagisa.” Rin snapped, “He snatched your ass out of the fire; you owe him thanks.”

“For following orders? I don’t think so.”

“Speaking of orders,” Makoto’s voice was deceptively gentle, but Nagisa could read the threat beneath, “I think your captain just gave you one.”

Well shit. Even Rei took a step back; no sympathy from that quarter- not that he needed any.

“I couldn’t even find him-”

 

“He’s in sickbay, where he always goes when you’re not following him doggedly around deck. If he’s not there, he’s in the crow’s nest- the only other place he ever goes. It’s not an epic journey, Nagisa. Just tender your sincere apologies and promises of respect to our surgeon- the man responsible for keeping your hide intact- and we can go on as is. Fail to do so, and I’ll hang you from the bowsprit for bird-bait.” Rin smiled charmingly, “A spectacle half the crew would pay dearly to see.”

“Fine. I’m going. Why the fuck did you take him anyway? Three bona fide quacks aboard and you go for the one that squeals like an infant every time someone so much as hints there might be blood.”

Almost every time. Nagisa still couldn’t forget the good doctor’s easy handling of their hostage; it was a sight he wasn’t likely to forget any time soon.

Much as it shamed him to admit even to himself, he’d lost his breath in that first moment that Nitori had drawn his blade, a spark of heat shooting through him as he watched the doctor’s easy handling of their captive.

From church-mouse to wolf in a split second and back again just as quickly. Fuck if that hadn’t done all kinds of questionable things to Nagisa’s state of mind- and body.

Nagisa had lived with himself long enough to know it was always the sweetly pretty ones that drew his eye, but it was the unexpectedly competent ones that kept his notoriously fickle interest. Not that he would be straying from Rei any time soon, a more capable and impossibly gorgeous man Nagisa had yet to meet.

But damned if he hadn’t been tempted for the smallest moment to pin that timid creature in the corner and teach him a lesson or two on the subject of unabashed ruthlessness. And then the little liar had to go and prove that it was a lesson he’d already learned singularly well.

Damn it all to hell.

He stomped down the few steps to the sickbay, situated at the aft end of the ship. It didn’t escape his notice that those crewman foolish enough to be working in the area all turned their eyes away. Good. He was not in a forgiving mood.

After five solid raps on the door, Nitori still hadn’t bothered to answer. The little snit was determined to send him back to captain Rin without carrying out his orders, and while he was fairly sure Mako wouldn’t allow the captain to string him up for such a small offense, there was every chance Makoto might set him to scrubbing every square inch of the deck on his knees. It wouldn’t be the first time, it wouldn’t even be the second or the third time.

Finally Nagisa kicked the door viciously, pushing it open and stepping inside carelessly.

It was dark. Every window carefully shuttered to admit only a sliver of light so that the room was more shadow than light. A handful of beds were bolted to the floor near the far wall, an improvement Nitori had insisted upon. Sackcloth mats had always been good enough for the sawbones that preceded him, but live it to Aiichiro Nitori to decide that his sickbay needed to be a cut above the rest. Makoto had personally overseen the reconstruction, and by ‘overseen’ he had meant ‘watch Nagisa do all the work while he chatted amiably with their captive.’

“Nitori, you in here?”

Nagisa didn’t see how he could be. There weren’t many places to hide: A single cabinet, bolted, four beds, empty, one shelf occupied by incomprehensible books of pointless diagrams and recipes for foul concoctions, and a single hammock… occupied.

“The captain sent me to make my apologies, not that you particularly deserve them.”

Nitori shifted slightly, eyeing him with something like malevolence from over the edge of the hammock. That couldn’t be right, Nitori couldn’t say ‘boo’ to a goose, let alone stare down his singular most devoted tormentor.

“Consider them made and _get out_.”

Ooh. Interesting. Something was pricking their too pristine surgeon, his veneer of gentility was wearing thin.

Excellent news for Nagisa.

“Is something troubling you, doctor? I’m afraid you’re the only ham-handed quack aboard, so you’ll have to make do with your own services.”

Not fair. Nitori had a fine and precise hand with the blade, he stitched so that hardly a scar was left, but the man took great pride in his work and that made it his weakest point.

Nagisa turned away, not bothering to wipe the smile from his face. “I hope you’re feeling better soon. Mako and the captain are going to be kicking up trouble again, we’ll need all hands to function. Yourself included, if you can believe that.”

Conscience pricked him viciously at the unjust words, but he didn’t dare call them back. He didn’t want to encourage any sort of friendliness with the ship’s healer; the man was an unholy temptation as an enemy, to have him as a friend… it didn’t bear thinking on.

Just as his hand closed about the door’s handle, his knees were kicked from under him in a technique Nagisa would always think of as Nitori’s only proficient combat skill.

“Why do you insist on constantly tormenting me?” Nitori growled, gentle hands closing about Nagisa’s shoulders and spinning him to press against the door. “You _pick_ and _sting_ and do your level best to ensure I never _dare_ to think of this ship as home or this crew as family.”

“We’re not your fucking-”

“Now _I_ will speak.” Nitori hissed, fingers pressing just a little harder into his vulnerable skin. “But I’ll finish that thought, shall I? You’re not my fucking family-”

Nagisa gulped a breath, shocked at the casual profanity, “I don’t _have_ a fucking family. They tend to disappear the moment one is labeled a traitor; what I _do_ have is a ship full of men who depend on me for even the most basic care. And one _child_ that would rather I had thrown myself off the ship for the sharks to devour before I so much as set foot in this sickbay.”

“I-”

“If you interrupt me, I will _cut out your tongue_. It’s nothing I haven’t been asked to do before, and it’s not so great a task I would hesitate to carry it out now.”

_You’re bluffing,_ Nagisa thought, but he didn’t dare speak the thought aloud, not with Nitori in this precarious state.

“I am as serious as death, Nagisa, and twice as immediate for you.”

It was the first time he had ever heard his name on those lips, and despite his shock, Nagisa couldn’t suppress a shiver of unwilling arousal.

Nitori’s eyes widened in surprise that mirrored his own. “Is _that_ it, Nagisa? Is it really that simple? You want me, so you’ll play some vicious schoolyard game like the little boy you pretend to be?”

How the devil was the surgeon reading him so easily? Was he so obvious as that?

Nitori’s grip tightened for a moment only to release just as swiftly. Nagisa stumbled, feet making contact with the deck once more; when had Nitori lifted him off it? There wasn’t much time for him to contemplate the question before he found himself pinned, one hand twined through Nitori’s, the other trapped between their bodies as warm lips and sharp teeth forced him to open, a too-clever tongue slipping in to duel with his own.

It was desperate and rough, just the right side of pain and too tempting for Nagisa to resist, much as he might damn himself for it later. He twined his fist in Nitori's shirt to hold him even as he was held.

When Nitori pulled away, seconds or minutes, hell, hours later, Nagisa couldn’t manage more than a quiet blink. That sinful mouth pressed to his ear, whispering words that sent a frisson of combined fear and lust shooting down his spine to stab sharply into his gut.

“If you _ever_ confront me in my sanctuary again, you will live to regret it. I will show you another side of my craft-” A sharp nip and soothing tongue tracing the hollow just below his ear. “I will layer sensation upon sensation, exquisite _agony_ over _excruciating_ pleasure until your mind no longer recognizes the boundary between the two.”

Nagisa wondered when his hand had twined in Nitori’s shirt, and at what point had he dared to tilt his head back even farther, baring his throat to a hot mouth. “This is your first and last warning, do not come here again unless you require my services as a healer, or I will _ensure_ you need me before you leave.”

The door opened and Nagisa spilled out onto the steps outside, still gasping frantically for breath and staring in open-mouthed disbelief at the door before him.

_What the hell?_

“How did it go?” Makoto called from across the deck, twining thick rope between skilled fingers as he grinned like he knew precisely what had happened behind the closed door.

“I think I might have accidentally broken him.” Nagisa called back hoarsely.

“I think you overestimate yourself.” Makoto called back, losing himself in his work now that he could see every one of his charges was safe and well.

 

 


	5. Making Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Makoto and Rin would much rather be seeing to each other than the rest of the crew. Makoto finds a way to deal with both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Some MakoRin interaction, and more to come next chapter!
> 
> There be brief smut ahead.

"You going to go after him? I'm not sure I want Nagisa alone with our ship's surgeon-" Rin hadn't even finished his sentence before Makoto ducked out of the cabin, his movements efficient but unhurried. Rin had no doubt he'd arrive precisely when he was needed and not so much as a moment before- that was a particular gift of his ever dependable first mate.

Rei waited until the door had shut before speaking, "If I may be so bold, captain?"

Wonderful. Another stilted conversation with Ryugazaki Rei, who hadn't yet realized that this ship was _not_ the gentleman's club he had once frequented in his more respectable days. Again, Rin wondered what had possessed him to ever allow a gentleman-scholar turned navigator aboard his ship.

Oh, right. It had something to do with Nagisa and the man's preternatural skill for reading star charts.

"Be as bold as you like, Rei. I can't handle much more caution right now. Your partner is a menace, you know that, right?" Rin had to hand it to him, that blush was charming; doubtless Nagisa delighted in eliciting that same response as often as possible.

"I have tried speaking with him, sir, but he remains incorrigible."

Two years at sea and the man hadn't yet shed that instinctive poise that came of being born to minor aristocracy. Rin had met his fair share of the high and mighty, brought more than a few of them low. It seemed the higher their rank the more crass a 'gentleman' was permitted to be- these second sons, though, _they_ had much to prove and never forgot it.

Apparently even after they voluntarily disavowed previous loyalties to pursue an altogether more profitable lifestyle.

"I am not certain that you are aware of it, but at present moment we are skirting imperial waters-"

"I am _painfully_ aware of it, but seeing as no scout ships have been spotted-" Rin eyed his navigator for a moment, waiting for a contradiction that never came. "We will conclude our business here before withdrawing."

"In the Autumn months, captain, it is common practice to send new vessels out to sea before the winter storms. It gives the green crews a chance to familiarize themselves with their ship and their new crew mates as well as a hint of rougher weather that would make any structural weaknesses apparent."

Rin nodded his understanding, vaguely amused at Rei's earnestness, troubled at the possibilities this news presented.

"I will keep a sharp eye on lookout, captain, but the sooner our 'business' is concluded the better off we will be. I cannot stress greatly enough how very important it is that our own craft be in working order before the weather turns for the worse, or before I spot a ship on the horizon."

"Makoto is in charge of the repair crew; any damage you have observed must be reported to him. Otherwise, I'd prefer your talents were focused firstly on ensuring we don't become prey for any Imperial vessels out on maneuvers and secondly on charting us a course to smoother waters. We'll want to keep close to Imperial waters this season, I'd just as soon we didn't spend the winter crunching hardtack and guzzling grog to warm our bellies. Find an easy current and steer us true."

Rei snapped off a rigid salute and scurried out the door before he had remembered that only the navy would have required such a gesture from him. Tiny gods, the man still had much to learn on the subject of unofficial business, but his knowledge of Imperial tactics was a boon to Rin- not to mention his calming effect on Nagisa.

Nagisa. He should be delivering his apology to Nitori right about now, and shortly Makoto would be returning to deliver his report on it. Rin smirked with anticipation; there was nothing quite like a good fight and the promise of battle to get the blood up, and he was willing to wager Mako was in much the same predicament.

 

 

It was a handful of minutes before Nitori could bring himself to look away from that flimsy door- the feeble lock on his prison and the only security afforded by this haven. Never had a man regarded an inanimate object with such thorough loathing or such deep gratitude. Today, the latter seemed to be winning out.

What the hell had he been thinking? Nitori shoved away from the door and made his way over to one of the beds, rearranging the pillows fussily. Half the problem was that he really hadn't been thinking at all; that look of blatant shock in Nagisa's eyes had stabbed right through him, he had finally managed to convey that he was no rag doll to be thrown about on a spoilt child's whim.

When the door had slid open and light flooded into his dim world, Nitori had known who the interloper would be; indeed his voice had shattered the silence not a moment after his entrance. Nagisa was not a man that could appreciate the blessing of silence; wherever he strode noise and chaos were sure to follow.

Such traits were born in a man, Nitori had been taught, determined by the balance of his humors; blood and yellow bile mingling explosively in a single body. It was a deeply troubling combination, and one so foreign to his own melancholic constitution that he could not help but be drawn to it even as he was repulsed by the behaviors it produced.

"You look troubled, doctor."

Nitori glanced up, burying his surprise beneath a carefully neutral expression. "Makoto, can I help you?"

 

 

Makoto was a long moment in responding, too absorbed in taking stock of the lair of their mysterious surgeon. The first thing to strike him was the dimness; Nitori had shuttered the windows so that only a bare minimum of light sifted through, it glinted off his own uncanny hair and turned his skin to a corpse-like pallor that was unnerving even for a man of Makoto's experience.

The surroundings were neat, the beds all in order and the floor scrupulously scrubbed and waxed; the dull scent of wisteria reached his nose. An interesting choice for a man far from home; Makoto wondered if the doctor himself could explain his attraction to the scent. _Heartache, dangerous obsession, suffering,_ his overtaxed memory supplied; it was not a gentle flower, and its tendency to grow unchecked, choking the life from any other plant in its path made it an ill-omen in any happy household.

Or was it an attempt to demonstrate humility in the face of-

"Makoto, are you in need of my assistance?"

Nitori's voice was sharp, his eyes bright with surprise he tried to conceal beneath a physician's studied calm. Unfortunately for Nitori, Makoto was not so imperceptive as his comrades; once he had made something of a living from his ability to read a man's body, albeit in entirely different circumstances.

"Was Nagisa's apology not satisfactory?"

"More than satisfactory, sir." Nitori visibly swallowed, likely wishing he could call back that last word, remembering the order from earlier.

"Sorry, si-. Sorry, habit." His shoulders rose to protect his neck, a defensive posture Makoto recognized as a silent plea not to mention the mistake. Despite the pacifying nature of the gesture there was nothing remotely submissive in it. Nitori's colors had begun to bleed through following that fated encounter on the island; he would find it difficult to piece together his mask again if he even thought it worth the trouble. Most of the crew would be aware by now of the duality of his nature.

Mako sauntered toward the bed where the doctor stood, propping himself against the wall and enjoying the discomfort his silence caused. Nitori was a man accustomed to feeling comfortable in silence; it had always been his element, but no longer, which meant this was the perfect time to speak honestly with him.

"More than satisfactory? Nagisa thought so too."

"Pardon?" Back straight, head tilted at just the right angle to indicate curiosity. In another life their surgeon might have been a talented actor, but Makoto would not permit him to dissemble this time.

"I am suggesting that Nagisa was not entirely displeased with tendering his regrets; were the two of you engaging in anything a little more… indiscreet?"

Guilt was writ large across the young man's face, but only for a second, the next his expression was as guileless as that of a child.

"If I suffered from any lack of discretion, I'm sure the captain would have inscribed the lesson into my skin months ago." The sweetness of his tone vanished, replaced with an edge of warning that said clearly this subject was pursued only at great peril.

Makoto debated silently with himself, watching keenly as Nitori began to obsessively tidy his surroundings, glancing up now and then to take stock of his company, his eyes skittering nervously away from Makoto's own. If it was true that the eyes were windows to a man's soul then Nitori must be a man of secrets.

"I suppose you're right." Makoto admitted at last, noting the sudden release of tension in the doctor's shoulders. "So long as you continue to be discreet I'm sure neither Rin nor I will have any complaints of you."

Nitori nodded, his movements more natural now that he no longer feared discipline. Makoto couldn't resist the devil that made him add, "Save one."

He could see Nitori's breath catch, the bob of his throat that indicated he was fighting the urge to swallow."You are a singularly ungainly creature, doctor. Rin believes you would benefit from my tutelage."

"I don't understand." He did, that much was plain, equally obvious was his indecision regarding whether this was a liberty he would permit the first mate to take.

"You cannot stay locked in this infirmary until your bones turn to dust, but you are reluctant to engage with the rest of the crew. It is understandable, you are the only man here against your will and the others think you something of a weakling. I do not."

"If I were unwilling, no amount of threats could have forced me into setting foot aboard this ship." His smile would have been enough to chill a lesser man's blood; as it was, Makoto only smiled back.

"Ah, but service here was only the lesser evil, not a choice you would have made if any others were available. I am not here for your story, Nitori. I'm only passing along orders. Until both the captain and I are satisfied with your progress you will meet with me for weapons training. Your weapon will be your choice, of course." He added magnanimously, seeing the burgeoning stubborness on Nitori's face. "Your scalpels are adequate, if nothing else catches your fancy. Let Nagisa walk you through the armory, though, to be certain. Report to my quarters following the evening meal."

He didn't give Nitori a chance to protest, striding out the door and across the deck before the doctor could manage more than a strangled hiss of agreement. He'd spent half the previous night devising a requisitions list for their repairs, most of the day today settling squabbles between children, and this evening would largely be dedicated to plotting vengeance on Rin's newest foe.

Surely a man deserved a rest, just for the few hours before the galley called out the crew for supper. Rin too must be chafing beneath his collar, hardly an hour had gone by these past few weeks that he wasn't fretting over the condition of the ship and its crew. With the ship temporarily safe in the shallows and the crew refreshed and eager for a fight, they would have to find a way to put all those free hours to use.

Makoto had an idea or two of his own on that score.

* * *

 

 

Parchment, ink, a new quill to replace the one he had broken in his frustration an hour earlier and still Rin could not find it in him to sketch even the most rudimentary map of the encampment they had temporarily been held in. Even now, the crisis resolved and sweet revenge assured, his temper trembled on a knife's edge.

"Dammit." He couldn't shake the image of an accusing blue gaze from his thoughts, it taunted him, dared him to new heights. No simple plan would do, nothing so mundane as thievery; he needed a plan devious enough to wipe the serenity from Nanase Haruka's expression, replace it with shock or horror… something more than studied indifference.

And to do that, he still needed a fucking map. A fucking map that he couldn't draw because every muscle in his body was taut with fury, every thought consumed with the myriad ways he intended to make his point…and where the hell was-

The door open and shut, admitting a gust of warm air that rifled the papers on his desk and sent the bitter tang of salt wafting into his cabin, overwhelming the softer scent of vanillin that had offered at least some relief.

"You've been planning without me." If Rin didn't know better he would have sworn Mako was genuinely hurt.

"Trying to. I have no head for these strategy games; not for the crew either, apparently. Never thought I'd see the day that little rat would take orders from you and not me." He was sulking, and entirely unashamed.

Makoto's sigh carried a note of exasperated amusement, "That _is_ generally what happens when the captain gains a reputation for being all talk."

_Crack_. "Ah, hell. There goes another one." Rin tossed the quill aside carelessly, clenching his fists in his too-long hair unconsciously. "All talk? That's not fair- there hasn't been much of a need for demonstrations lately. Everyone has been so intent on surviving these past few months they haven't had a chance to make trouble."

"Hm. Not so. I've dealt with flaring tempers here and there before the news managed to make it to your nest. You need to walk the ship more often, Rin, let your presence be felt."

Rin rose, padding over to the bedside chest and rummaging about until he came up with a pair of bronze shears. "Enough, Makoto, we both know you should have been captain. My luck to find the one man that didn't want the position."

"What are you doing with those?" Evidently he was not about to be distracted.

Makoto sounded frankly alarmed, and Rin couldn't quite keep a mischievous smile from his face when he responded, "My mane has grown a little too wild, I think."

"Don't cut it." Makoto shook his head, fingers twitching spasmodically in an unaccustomed show of distress. His voice had risen a notch above its usual subdued inflection, and Rin delighted in provoking such an obvious reaction from at least one man.

"Oh? Why not?" He knew full well that Makoto always hated to see his unruly hair tamed. Mako had always had a fascination for the bright strands, running his fingers through it at every opportunity when the door was safely closed behind them, twining his hands in the mess to hold Rin still for his embrace.

Makoto hissed a breath between his teeth, recognizing the futility of arguing the issue here and now. "At least pass _me_ the shears. When _you_ cut it your hair inevitably comes out looking like a cur that has lost a battle with a starveling cat."

"But Makoto, that would be cruel-"

The shears were wrenched from his hand none too gently, and Mako wasted no time shoving him to the bed with a disgusted sigh, fingers tracing regretfully through his hair.

The first snip made him jump, only Mako's practiced technique keeping him from a bloodied neck. "Don't squirm."

"You startled me." Rin chuckled, "Cut it short. I don't want there to be anything that might be used against me, assuming we end up in close quarters with our enemies."

"No. Not so short as that; tie it up if it is such a concern to you."

"I don't know why I keep such an insubordinate first mate aboard my ship. Sometimes I wonder if I wouldn't be better off using you for fishbait."

This time the shears pinched his skin cruelly, just enough to bruise, he lifted a cautious fingertip to check for the warmth of blood. Makoto caught his hand in a deceptively tender grip, moving it aside so his lips could make a detailed exploration of the damaged skin. Rin shivered involuntary at the scrape of a hot tongue, the way Makoto sucked at the bruise and up the line of his throat.

"I am good for far more than that, though frankly you haven't been making use enough of my especial talents these past few days."

"Agreed." Rin turned his head to catch the teasing mouth with his own chapped lips, all but purring when he heard the solid thunk of brass connecting with the floorboards. He pulled away abruptly, disconcerted at his shortness of breath. For once even Makoto could not remain unruffled, panting softly with that come-hither smile floating about his lips.

Rin leaned forward, whispering tauntingly against Makoto's lips "But this isn't the time. I really want to stick it to that pearl-hunting savage and his pets." He took a perverse delight in the disgruntled frown that appeared and vanished so quickly. It was rare that he ever had a chance to see the truly desperate side of his lover, any pretense of patience or self-discipline stripped away.

Normally Rin enjoyed the manipulative streak that so often manifested in games that left him aching and a breath away from a plea; Mako mapping his reaction to every caress, every punishing nip with a detachment that would have been offensive if it weren't so damn compelling.

It was always a gift to see Makoto reduced to the same state as himself.

Of course, the smile that flitted across Makoto's face so soon after that shadow of disappointment was both thrilling, and worrisome.

"I have a suggestion, captain."

"I'm always willing to entertain those." A devil-may-care smile to cover his anticipation.

In the next moment he was pinned to the bed, feet slipping on polished wood as he fought to move his hips up farther, defeated by Makoto's familiar weight settling over his waist.

Mako didn't give him a chance to make a pithy remark, attacking his lips with a savagery he was seldom privileged to see. He drew back only long enough to smirk knowingly at Rin, "Let's make ourselves comfortable before we get to business."

"The devil are you talking about? I'm perfectly comfortable." Rin smirked, rocking his hips tauntingly up into Mako's own; he opened his mouth to make another dismissive remark, but was arrested by the unaccountably erotic sight of Makoto slowly stripping his battered scarf from his neck. Rin cursed the instinct that made him harden immediately; Mako had trained him well in their years together, and rot his eyes for it.

"I've never thought it advisable to listen to more than a few words from a man's mouth. If he speaks more than a single sentence a lie is inevitable whether he intends to deceive or not." Makoto smirked, "And the less said of women the better. They like to keep their mysteries. Thankfully, man or woman, the _body_ cannot lie- I've told you that before, haven't I?"

" _Fuck_."

"Hmm. Experienced liars, the ones that make their living by it," Mako's gentle smile included both of them in its warmth, "They might learn a trick or two. Perhaps they will find exactly the right amount of time to meet their captor's eyes without appearing suspicious." He locked eyes with Rin as he tenderly wrapped the battered cloth around Rin's panting mouth, forcing him to breathe through his nose. "Some of them might learn to keep their legs from twitching in a way that would betray them-" A jagged nail traced the curve of his calf, making him jump.

"But no man can discipline every part of his body to work in tandem. Every man has a tell." Rin's breath left him entirely when a knowing hand clasped his growing erection, running a questing grip down his length beneath the stiff fabric of his pants. "I wish I had the time to demonstrate the lesson in its entirety, but that will have to wait for tonight, I think." Makoto's mocking frown transformed to a pleased smile, "Something quick then. Are you familiar with the word 'plateau'?"

Rin scowled, his own hands rising to clasp Mako's hips in demand, pulling insistently at his solid mass.

"You must have been a horrible student, impatient as you are, lacking any appreciation for subtlety." Makoto sighed with false despair, "I'll humor you, this once."

With a movement so swift Rin couldn't track it, Makoto freed him from the confines of his breeches, swatting his hands away when he tried to assist. "No. You will be still."

And because he was so damn desperate for a quick tumble, Rin complied without his customary insolence. He tried to gasp in a life-giving breath, choked on fabric instead when Makoto slid down his form, pulling his legs over his shoulders and taking him into his mouth without so much as a word of warning. His eyes pricked with miniscule tears of excitement, heels digging into Makoto's back when he crossed his ankles for leverage's sake, rocking into the welcoming heat.

Rin glanced down to his lover, hardly able to keep his heavy eyelids from drifting shut; _god_ , he was touching himself shamelessly, shoving his own trousers down around his knees as he knelt there. Between the sight presented to his prying eyes and the sharp stimulation after so long without it wasn't long before he lost himself to orgasm, heedless of the way his fingers scratched at the bed beneath him or how his feet drummed into Mako's unprotected back.

When at last he came back into himself, Makoto had plucked the scarf from his mouth, and he could feel the heat of his lover's cock pressing into his stomach. "Just as well I used this today. It wouldn't do to have anyone above deck hearing your cries, _captain_."

"Son of a _bitch_." Rin panted, incapable of anything more than profanity so soon after. How the hell had Makoto managed to keep from coming? Rin began to reach for him, more than willing to return the favor, but Mako caught his hand once more to still its progress.

"Do you recall the question I asked you?"

Rin thought for a moment, shook his head reluctantly, uncertain of the reaction he would get.

Makoto smiled, and there was more than a hint of the predator beneath, "Are you familiar with a plateau?"

"Land mass?" Rin panted, vexed at Mako's self-possession. Makoto shook his head, even as his nail traced a path up the engorged vein running the length of Rin's cock. Rin winced, trying to pull away but arrested by Makoto's other hand tangling in his hair.

"No. Wait a moment and I will show you what I mean."

"I'm too sensitive." Rin gasped out, writhing while Mako's hand skillfully teased him to hardness once more; he could feel heat rising to the surface of his skin, spreading across his chest and up his neck, pinking his cheeks lightly and sending blood to plump his lips.

Makoto smiled with satisfaction, "This is the plateau, Rin. It's that moment just before true satisfaction, when the body is too fatigued to regulate its reactions. This moment right _here._ "

Rin cried out in agonized ecstasy, Mako's work forcing another sharp, undeniably painful orgasm from him. He was still writhing with the overload of sensation when he felt Makoto slip between his legs once more, his cock burrowing into the space between Rin and the bed savagely, fingers curling in Rin's hair as he panted against his neck, sucking and licking mindlessly at the unprotected skin bared to him.

Rin only held him as he shuddered through his own orgasm and collapsed, bringing his ragged exhalations under control far more quickly than Rin had ever managed.

Rin would have been content to lie there hours longer, perhaps drift off into a post-coital doze, only Makoto shook him rudely awake after no more than ten minutes.

"Captain, there's work to tend to." Seeing Rin's pout, he leaned down for a surprisingly sweet kiss, pushing away after only a moment. "We can continue this little _tete-a-tete_ later tonight."

 

 

And when he put it that way, it would just have to do.


	6. A Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Rin and Haruka put their plans into motion. Nothing seems to go as expected.

Rin allowed himself to be hauled unceremoniously from his bed, though he found his legs trembled minutely so that he couldn't keep his balance on the slightly shifting deck. Makoto was smiling like he had just discovered the secret to eternal youth; hell, Rin wouldn't put it past him to manage just that in the middle of an orgasm. Come to it, Makoto certainly hadn't needed much help with _that_ , and Rin found himself more than a little frustrated at Makoto's refusal to allow him any more intimate contact… he had more than one vengeance to plan tonight.

"How are we going to accomplish it?"

"Huh?" Rin blinked owlishly, still pulling his clothes back into place. Makoto was already collected, rot his eyes; the man was an expert at all things sartorial; skilled both at stripping clothes off and at putting them back again as though he'd never even been ruffled. If he wasn't such a good first mate, Rin would have been tempted to appoint him the captain's official valet.

Then again, Makoto was rather good at occupying that position _un_ officially.

"I assume we are still intending to loot what we may from the savages. How do we intend to accomplish it."

"Oh."

"That is not the answer I was looking for." And didn't Mako just look like the cat that ate the cream?

"We need a cat."

"Also not the answer I was looking for; I am however, deeply intrigued."

"No, I just meant- never mind."

"Go on, I want to hear." Makoto leaned back against the desk insolently, stretching his lithe muscles in a way guaranteed to catch his captain's interest.

"We have rodents, not many but a few- a cat could take care of those. Nitori would thank us for it; he'd probably even ask to take care of the wretched animal himself. He strikes me as the sort that would welcome an enigmatic companion." Rin's expression soured; he'd never much cared for cats, too demanding the lot of them, always gazing superciliously off into the distance. His mother had told him once they could suck the breath from a newborn's lips. Wicked, nasty, creatures.

"I daresay he would, but that has no bearing on our current mission. I propose that we first make off with anything that glimmers and _then_ concern ourselves with pests."

"Of the feline or vermin variety?"

"Both. But first, the Human sort."

Rin nodded, bringing himself back to the subject at hand with effort. "I had an inspired idea-"

" _Inspired_." Makoto snickered, eyes twinkling with good humor.

"The dark one,"

"Haruka. Do not pretend ignorance, Rin. You've always had an eye for a handsome face. Unless of course you are referring to the devil himself, and I-"

" _Haruka_ implied his own retribution would be swift. So we anchor off shore, just far enough out that we don't risk bottoming out when the tide goes in. Force them to come to us. We'll leave a skeleton crew aboard the _Samenoe_ and take a shore party to stow away somewhere onshore. While the locals are otherwise distracted, we move in and take their loot."

Makoto pursed his lips, head tilted as though listening to a voice only he could hear; it wouldn't surprise Rin at all to learn he had a few familiar spirits at his beck and call, in fact it would explain much.

"You are presupposing that we are not already being watched. If our positions were reversed I would have posted lookouts to watch our vessel the moment our feet left shore."

"And were we in daylight it wouldn't work, but evening is stretching on and the sun will soon be falling."

Makoto snorted, "Men love darkness rather than light because their deeds are evil."

"What?"

"Something a desiccated wanderer told me years ago. The man was half-mad to begin with, but _that_ always struck me as truth. It hardly matters; I am more interested in learning how you plan to approach the shore and where we would hide that the inhabitants could not find us. They have had many more years to learn the peculiarities of this land than we have."

Rin strode over to his desk, pulling out sheets of wax paper and laying them across the varnished wood. Makoto's expression swiftly changed from one of curiosity to dismay.

"Captain, if we are going to use the paper I _beg_ you give me the pen. Paper is _not_ a ready commodity- it is costly and we have no way of knowing when we will put in to a proper port again. You've ruined sheets enough."

"Your point is made." Rin pushed the papers and ink pot to Makoto with ill-grace, digging through the drawer until he came up with charcoal and a small box of sand.

"I think a map of every part of the island you can remember would be fitting; I'll dictate my own path to you and see that you get it right."

"Aye, captain." At last Mako's smile had returned. He would be in his element here, plotting and scheming toward an enemy's downfall.

Rin was looking forward to it himself.

 

 

 

Haruka sneezed violently, startling the few men gathered around him just beneath the questionable protection of a rocky outcropping on the Southern shore. The sole woman in the party only laughed aloud at their discomfiture, though she was good enough to muffle it after a stern glance from Haru.

"Someone is speaking ill of you, Haru." Miho chuckled softly, pausing in the act of honing her blade. Haruka did not think it strictly wise to inform her the blade could not be any more keen; clearly it was more a gesture of comfort than utility.

"I wonder whom that could be?" Muffled laughter; tension was running high, but so long as they could laugh all would be well.

"How much longer do you suppose we have to wait?" Goro murmured, shifting his weight off his heels. His legs were probably beginning to cramp after so long in the same position; Haru was having the same problem and if Miho's wince was anything to go by, she wasn't faring much better.

"Until I no longer see sunlight on the water."

Heartfelt groans sounded from either side of him, and Amakata flopped back against him, knocking him off balance and into the gravel.

"It'll be _hours_ -"

"However long it takes, we will wait. If you would prefer to return to the village-"

"Don't even _think_ of excluding me, Haru. I would make you suffer the torment of the damned."

Silence reigned for all of ten minutes before she was speaking again. "Goro's claimed the little gold savage, I want the beanpole healer. Which one has caught _your_ eye?"

In truth Haruka was undecided. He would give his right eye for a chance at the smarmy, bronze man with the too-knowing eyes, but their _captain_ -

"I will take whomever I can. But if we scuttle the ship it no longer matters; we can pick them off at will as soon as they come ashore."

"Doesn't mean we can't have a preference."

"Then I think it only fitting I see to the captain while you minister to the crew."

"An excellent choice. Maybe you should keep him; we can bring him out on special occasions, show him as an example to anyone else that makes land here. He'd look very fetching in a collar, don't you agree?"

Haruka snorted mirthlessly, "He would look charming with a _noose_ about his neck, and if the Imperial navy was patrolling the waters for any threats instead of posturing for the benefit of their ranking officers, he would have been wearing one long since."

"My mother always taught me never to question a gift-"

"Odd since mine taught me gifts are never without cost."

Miho's eyes glittered dangerously, "You are becoming arrogant, Haru; there's a very good reason you keep me by your side, though you seem to have forgotten it in all this chaos."

Haruka inclined his head humbly, acknowledging the justice in the rebuke, "I am sorry. You were saying?"

"Leave the wreckage of the ship off shore as a warning to anyone that turns covetous eyes toward us. Keep the captain, string his bones up on the shore if it pleases you, but let's have an end to the raiding season."

Haruka shook his head briskly, "A ship's wreckage would draw attention. Others would want to investigate, vultures would come to salvage what they could. Leaving corpses ashore would invite questions and landing parties. Our safety lies in secrecy."

"Fat lot of good it's done us over the years. Perhaps if we could construct a barricade just beneath the water? Something that would damage any ships that attempted a close approach?"

"If you can design a trap that will run the length of the shore and the materials to build it then you have my blessing. Otherwise, mind on the matter at hand; I'd say we have a little under an hour before we can make our move."

"And you expect me to be silent until then?"

Haru smiled warmly, "Yes."

Miho smiled back, sweet and innocent, with more than a hint of a devil beneath, "Not likely."

Damn.

 

* * *

 

Rei glanced up from his plate cautiously, seeking to catch the eye of the man only now beginning to pick at his food.

"Nagisa." Gently, so as not to startle.

Nagisa did not even look up, picking restlessly at the skin of the fish before him.

"Is there something troubling you, Nagisa? Can I be of assistance?" He felt a small prick of excitement at the thought; it was rare that Nagisa ever accepted his aid, rarer still that he would ever admit to a need for it. Disheartening, given that was almost the entirety of Rei's motivation for taking up with pirates in the first place.

He rapped the table with his knuckles and Nagisa flinched, dropping his fork and turning his knife so the blade faced his partner. He relaxed and forced a smile when he saw the open shock painted on Rei's features.

"The fish was only caught this morning. You should finish it; no telling when we'll have such a treat again."

Nagisa's lips quirked into a mere shadow of his normally bright grin, but he took a bite if only to satisfy his partner. "I'm sure if I asked it of you, you would rig up a line and bring me fish any time I asked for it." Spoken sharply, almost as though he intended to wound.

He couldn't, it was nothing less than the truth.

Rei quickly reviewed the events of the day- had it been only a _day_? It felt like a week. Nagisa had been his usual lively self when he stepped onto the deck, ready to take on the world come what may. Now he was thoughtful, and a tad downcast.

Neither of these were moods Rei would ever have associated with his lover. He had seen him both furious and joyful, but never sad. And deep thought was not something that came naturally to one so consumed with energy.

No, it had to be Rin's order that had upset him.

"You understand the captain had to order you to make your apologies to Ni- to the surgeon regardless of his opinions on the matter? A ship can only function when the crew is of one mind."

Nagisa flashed him a look whose significance he could not read: fear perhaps? Or longing? He was a career soldier, not a poet; this business of dissecting others with a single glance would always be beyond him.

"I may have underestimated the surgeon. He is no fool."

"Timidity and foolishness are not necessarily the same. Personally I've never seen them occupy the same space."

"How do you mean?" Now Nagisa appeared fascinated with every word from his mouth, and Rei warmed to his topic considerably, glad to help in any small way he could.

"The cautious are timid, and fools are not known for being cautious; they're far more likely to be brazen- a quality no one would accuse a timid man of owning."

"So you're saying I'm a fool?" Nagisa smiled crookedly, genuine amusement showing through, but Rei shook his head violently, raising his arms in a gesture meant to appease.

"No, no. Brazenness is a subset of foolishness. Fools are always brazen, but the bold need not be _fools_."

"Subset?"

"I assume you are familiar with the principles of mathematics laid out by-"

"Enough, Rei, I was only teasing."

This was a strange caprice indeed, but Rei was not about to object to it.

"Rei, has it ever occurred to you to wonder why we found that chu- the _surgeon_ in the brig? Why he was chained?"

"Insubordination is common enough. Surgeons rarely volunteer for sea duty; normally they must be forced aboard ship and if that means keeping them in the brig until they are resigned to their duties then that is what a captain will mandate."

"They were far from shore, even had he been permitted the freedom of the deck there is little he could have done save leap to a watery death."

"Perhaps that is what he threatened to do. What is this sudden concern with Nitori? He has always been an adequate healer; the needs of this ship are few but he has tended to them."

Nagisa pushed his serving away, grimacing as though it had offended him. "But the _chains_ , Rei, why the _chains_?"

"Nimble fingers could have made quick work of that pitiful lock. I imagine Nitori thought so too."

"And you call him by name. Are you friends?"

"We are not _enemies_." Rei answered tactfully. Nagisa had never concerned himself with Rei's companions before and it was disconcerting that he should fix upon it now.

Nagisa eyed him steadily until Rei began to squirm in his seat, finally spitting out the rest. "It's difficult to say, there are times I think we have reached an understanding…and there are times I am not certain he is in his right mind. The right hand is not responsible for the actions of the left if you take my meaning."

"I do." Nagisa downed the last of his vinegar wine quickly, gagging at the taste. "I take your meaning fine, but I think we should keep a weather eye on the surgeon from now on."

"That should not be too difficult, Makoto has sent me to collect weapons from you."

Nagisa and Rei flew back from their table simultaneously, knocking their benches over in their haste to stand. How the hell had Nitori slipped up on them soundlessly in this corner of the galley? They were shielded entirely from view and to come this near, he first would have had to open the door and- how much had he heard?

Nitori's face was neutral as always, pleasant even albeit slightly bemused at their confusion, but certainly not offended.

"Weapons?" Nagisa squeaked, pale as a sheet.

"The first mate has advised me to take my place among the crew. He thought you might have a suggestion concerning suitable weaponry."

"Hell's teeth." Nagisa hissed under his breath, he raised his voice to be heard across the space separating them. "I've always thought that scalpel served well for your purposes."

Nitori's face brightened, "Makoto suggested as much; I am relieved to find you in agreement." He turned to leave abruptly, not bothering with any pleasant superficiality, but before he returned to the deck he turned back to catch Rei's eyes, "I have always considered us to be _friends_ , Rei."

With those parting words he took his leave. It was long minutes until Rei and Nagisa no longer felt the weight of his presence though.

 

 

 

Rin paced the deck rapidly, unconcerned that twilight limned his form for anyone near enough to see. Doubtless Makoto was correct in supposing Haruka had set lookouts on shore, but that was hardly his concern. At present moment he awaited only Nagisa and Makoto; between the three of them they certainly couldn't hope to carry off a full cache of treasure, but at least enough to count their point made and to assist with secure trading the next time they made land anywhere near a market.

Nagisa ambled out on deck, Rei following close behind him; both appeared more than a little shaken and there was none of the disturbance usually associated with Nagisa's passing. They were quiet as the grave and pale as corpses in the dimming light.

"Something you ate?" Rin half-joked. They had taken aboard bad grain once and lost a few crewmembers to ergot; thankfully not a week later they had run across the ship carrying Nitori.

The man was as much a blessing as he was a curse.

"Someone we saw." Rei smiled, but it was a ghastly expression indeed, mixed of equal parts fear and doubt. Rin decided not to press him; Rei was an easy one to spook, and Nagisa often took his direction.

"I trust you know your orders, Rei?"

"Sing out at the first sign of trouble? It's no different than any other night."

"It is. You can expect an attack tonight; I want you to make sure it is unsuccessful. Make it an abysmal failure if you can; I wouldn't object to taking a few prisoners. There's a market for the exotic further inland." He smiled thinly, but they both knew it was purely in jest. Rin had always been adamant that the _Samenoe_ would never become a slaving vessel; it would be both the destruction of his ship and crew.

Makoto padded toward them on cat's feet, altogether more sombre than was his wont.

"Everyone is prepared?"

"Yes. I've had the dinghy made ready again."

"All is well, then. Good luck, Rei." Makoto nodded reassuringly, leaning aside to whisper in Rin's ear: "Is he ill? I don't believe I have ever seen him so pale."

"I remarked the same myself. When we return I'll ask Nitori to have a look at the grain again."

"They had fish tonight."

"Then I'll ask Nitori to have a look at the _fish_. Do you suppose we can go now?"

Makoto nodded his agreement, if grudgingly. They headed for the dinghy, not a word spoken between them, but just before they could hoist themselves into the craft Rei groaned, a tentative "Captain?" floating through the still air.

"If he is bluffing, I will gut him myself." Rin growled.

"Rei _never_ bluffs. He can't even play a decent hand of cards." Nagisa grumbled.

The party hurried back to him, squinting in the direction he pointed. "I can't be certain, but I think that may be a ship."

"No." Rin gritted out, "No, that is not a ship; the shadows are playing tricks on you. And if it is-" Rin hastily spoke over Nagisa's objection, "It is far enough away that we can afford to take a few hours more at anchor."

"Beg pardon, captain, but if that _is_ a ship and it is visible from this distance then it is likely a frigate. Frigates are unique to the Imperial navy in these waters, save those few that have been commandeered by pirates."

"Neither one of those sounds promising in our present straits, Rin. I suggest we be about our business and gone by the time full dark has fallen. Frigates are built for speed, our ship is compromised and couldn't move much quicker. We need to keep our distance." Makoto glared at the spot on the horizon.

Rin sighed pitifully, "Then we are certain it is a ship? All agreed?"

"Aye."

Damn. "All right then, I'll allow for two hours before we need to be back aboard ship. If we are separated, we meet here, anyone that doesn't is left behind."

Rin wasn't much better at bluffing than Rei, at least not when it came to facing off against Makoto; his first mate's wry smile said plainly he knew not a word of it was true.

Rin would sooner abandon his family than he would his crew. He had, once, and never questioned the decision.

 

 

Haruka opened his eyes hesitantly, waking from a half-doze in the span of a few seconds. Miho was already alert, slipping her knife from its sheathe when she noticed Haruka's accusatory gaze.

"The sun has gone down. I thought we agreed this was the time."

"Well enough, we did." He turned back to the others, an unaccountable feeling of dread settling in his gut. "Everyone stay close together, we swim in formation and I expect two by two. The tide is with us but that is no excuse to let your guard down."

Much as he would have liked to, there was no excuse to stall any longer. He followed Miho to the water's edge and beyond, slipping a makeshift chisel from his trousers and clutching it between desperate jaws. Not ideal, but the best he could manage under the circumstances.

When he finally slipped into the surf his worries melted away, submerged beneath a far greater concern for the task ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm estimating the length of this at anywhere around 18-20 chaps. So we'll go with 20 as the highest estimate. :)


	7. Scuttlebutt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's plans go awry, but Rin is confident he can salvage what is left of his.

It took all of an hour for Rin and company to realize that navigating their way back to the village would be far easier planning than carrying out. Even Makoto, for all his careful observation of the terrain, was struggling to orient himself once ground-side.

As though their luck wasn't running poorly enough, the locals had certainly taken their time in constructing a more formidable defensive perimeter. A wall of stakes was there to greet them when Rin shimmied through the dirt and dead leaves on his stomach, Nagisa trying to silence hysterical giggles behind him.

Being the smallest of their ragtag group it should have naturally fallen to Nagisa to dig out a hole beneath the pikes, keeping a weather eye out for any patrols around the encampment; seeing as he balked at the prospect and looked to be winding up to an impressive tantrum, Rin took the lead instead. Whatever had so terrified Nagisa when he was aboard ship, it had put him horribly out of sorts now that they were on land.

"Sentry to your left, twenty-six paces." Nagisa managed to gasp out, clamping a hand over his mouth to still his unwilling convulsions.

"I see him. Makoto, you want to circle around and come in to _his_ left?"

"I stay with you." Mako's tone brooked no argument, low and steady, dead certain Rin wouldn't countermand him. This once he was wrong.

"Nagisa's with me, you're circling 'round. _Now_." Sometimes Rin himself hardly remembered that he was the captain of this crew, but only fools disobeyed him when he chose to exercise the full breadth of his power.

Makoto was not a fool. But he was not a coward either. Rin knew he would obey, Mako would never cost him face in front of anyone else for all the power games they played behind doors. Rin swore he could feel the heat of Makoto's displeasure in his scathing tone though.

"Aye, _captain_."

There was hardly so much as a rustle to mark his passing, yet Rin knew he had gone. Makoto always brought stillness with him, the feeling of calm in the eye of a storm; with him gone, Rin was painfully aware of every shift of fabric in dirt, every insect chirp and the eerie whistle of the wind through trees. It seemed unbearably loud- how had the sentries not spotted them lying here?

Twenty paces, eighteen… if this unfortunate came within a half dozen paces the game would be up; the slightest catch in his tread would warn the others something was amiss. Rin was prepared to admit his pride might need a little checking.

_Thump_.

Fifteen paces and their foe was efficiently decommissioned, Makoto scrambling up to take his place. Rin slipped from hiding and fell into step beside him, motioning to Nagisa to fall in behind.

"Part here. Find the hut, meet at the farthest corner of the barrier in ten minutes. If we can't find it in that time we're getting out anyway." Rin directed his words over his shoulder to Nagisa, locking eyes with Makoto to be sure he understood the order applied to him as well.

"Yessir." Nagisa melted into the darkness, leaving them alone once more.

"Take your own advice, Rin. Make this quick and clean."

"Don't teach your grandmother to suck eggs. I was liberating merchant's goods while you were still entertaining your pretty soldiers."

"Do these look like merchants to you?" He was gone before Rin could think of a suitably witty response. Typical.

Rin stalked the perimeter, keeping a weather eye on the men across the way, presumably set to watch the camp. This was not a warlike tribe, he was certain; these rank novices never varied in their paces, only scanned the horizon, pausing now and then when a small animal darted through the underbrush.

Rei would never allow even one of them to take a shift on his watch. Feeling cheeky, Rin nodded to the nearest man, flashing a grin in the darkness and receiving one in return; Mako would not approve, but Mako wasn't here to say so. Besides, what good was it to be captain if he couldn't bend his own rules every once in a while?

He just about jumped out of his skin when a firm hand clamped on his shoulder and hauled him bodily from his post. Mindful of causing a racket, he confined his resistance to a muted snarl and a judicious application of his elbow- the answering wheeze was enough to confirm the identity of his assailant.

"I swear, Nagisa, you had better be on your _best_ behavior for a _month_ to make up for the amount of fuckery you have pulled today."

"I know where they are."

Rin turned slowly, taking in the wide eyes and tight jaw of his fearless gunner. His body screamed abject terror now.

"Who and where?"

"The missing." Nagisa hissed, uncharacteristically intense. "They're after our ship."

"We reckoned that. Rei is in charge, nothing untoward will happen."

"But the _dinghy_. We left it ashore- if they-"

_Shit_. "Get Makoto and get out. Forget anything else and _move_."

Nagisa took off like a shot, leaving Rin alone in the darkness once more. With effort, he managed to take up his old post, valiantly resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder constantly.

He had well and truly fouled the mix this time; the past month had been an exercise in poor decision-making, but a mistake of this caliber might well cost him his ship. After all he had surrendered to acquire it, that wasn't a price Rin was willing to pay. He stalked around the barricade once more, surrendering to the impulse that urged him to scan the scattered huts for signs of Mako and Nagisa. What the hell was taking them so long? What part of "Get Out" had been unclear?

"Watch the forest not the camp, fool."

Rin snapped to attention, fixing his eyes back on the forest and offering a silent prayer of thanks to whatever crooked deity had taken such a shine to him. Red hair was not a common trait, here or anywhere. That no one had noticed his glaring predicament in the failing light was nothing short of a miracle.

Or a trap.

Skin crawling and hair prickling, Rin stoutly maintained his watch; if those idiots hadn't joined him in precisely… six minutes, he was going to find them and drag them out of this mousetrap by their ears- kicking and howling if he had to.

Fortunately it did not come to that, as he passed the place where they had dug their narrow hole in the makeshift palisade, he felt a phantom brush of fingers across his ankle ad glanced down just in time to see Mako yanking his hand back as though it had been burned.

"I'll circle once more. Let me know when it's clear."

"It's clear _now_. Get down before the watchman decides to check the trove."

"You _took_ something after I told you not to? Your insubordination is out of hand-"

As if to put a fine tip on the point, Mako seized his ankles and heaved bodily, sending him crashing to the ground in a flurry of limbs and knocking the air out of his lungs so that he lay gasping like a fish on land. The imagery wasn't too far off the mark- and someone had deigned to take notice.

"Rin, move!"

A panicked shout rang out across the encampment and damned if the area wasn't swarmed with villagers scurrying around and frantically demanding orders. Not one of them was certain who their immediate superior should be, and those few seconds of indecision were all it took for Rin to scramble through the gap, still trying to suck in a breath of life-giving air and clinging to Mako for support as he struggled to run. Nagisa took the vanguard, already loading his pistol with a dexterity born of long practice.

Rin offered thanks to his crooked deity again; of the few poor choices he had made as a captain, choosing his crew was not among them. Every last one knew their function in a time of emergency and could carry out their appointed tasks even drunk out of their minds and half-asleep to boot- he knew it from bitter experience, and it was a memory he treasured. These children milled about like chickens with their heads cut off, wasting more time just devising a way to get _out_ of their self-made prison than it had taken to find a way _in_.

"You breathing, Rin?" Mako wasn't even panting, though his tone was colored with worry.

"Yes, you mutineering scum. You aren't captain yet." Rin gasped out.

Mako's nearly manic laughter brought a reluctant smile to his lips. "Small mercies, captain."

The sharp report of Nagisa's pistol firing brought them up short, lending a burst of speed to their unsteady legs. A steady stream of creative profanity warned them he hadn't made the shot. Even Nagisa, expert marksman that he was, could hardly hit a moving target at night and on the run.

"Nagisa, run now, shoot when we have the advantage."

"They're gaining, we're lost. Steep disadvantages."

"Save your breath for running, both of you." Mako barked out, "don't look behind."

What should have been a ten minute run to shore soon became twenty of aimless sprinting, muffled curses and the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps behind them. The terrain was unfamiliar and their legs were accustomed to the churning of the sea, hardly the adamant ground. Rin gave a shout of wondering disbelief when he finally spotted the last few, scraggly trees of the thinning forest. They had nearly made it, and their pursuers were nearly neck and neck, disconcertingly silent and focused on their prey.

If they were caught again, it would likely mean death. Treachery did have a way of making people less inclined to clemency. Particularly when one's first mate was wearing a shiny, new necklace he had pilfered from their stock and an unrepentant grin that said he would do it again if left alone for more than a moment.

When they finally broke through to shore, panting and heaving with a combination of exertion and desperation, the dinghy was gone.

_Fuck_. Had they scuttled her? Could it have drifted on the tide? In the end it didn't matter; the dinghy was gone and even had it been present they would not have had the time to make use of it.

Rin could feel Mako's knees buckle and knew he had arrived at the same conclusion.

"Nearly there, Mako. We have to do this." Mako reached out to grab his wrist, blunt nails sinking into already damaged flesh. This would not be easy for him by any means, but Rin hoped he could put aside his fear for the time it would take them to make the ship and call up for a rope.

"Rin-" Voice strangled, he released the hand he'd kept captive; when their bare feet hit the surf, whatever he had meant to say was lost.

Water was their element, every caprice known to them after long years spent navigating the sea. Like any who dared to make a life shipboard they knew her to be a treacherous mistress- Mako knew it better than most. To subject him to this now, after promising so long ago that it would never happen again-

Rin owed him a debt for this, and it only grew steeper the farther they advanced.

By the time the water rose to their waists he was beginning to pant in earnest, visibly fighting off his innate reluctance. Mako was by no means new to this, he knew how to navigate the tide and the danger of undertow, but to thrust him into it so suddenly was a risky proposition at best.

Rin didn't dare glance behind them to see if any continued the pursuit. The lack of splashing footsteps indicated not, but neither could they turn back to shore. Nagisa was spitting and swearing, bemoaning the loss of his gunpowder, but Rin could hear no more than ragged breathing from Mako's quarter, an occasional sputter when the bitter salt water flowed over his lips.

They swam quickly and in silence, as near to each other as they dared, but never once did Rin glance to Mako.

 

* * *

 

Rei set aside his spyglass, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon; the frigate was visible now even without its aid.

"It must have had a good headwind to cover so much distance in this time." He jumped with surprise, wincing when he realized he had quite literally frightened himself with his own musing. Truly it was a wonder Nagisa tolerated him at all, absent-minded twit that he could be.

That ship was by far the more pressing concern though; the frigate was a better class of vessel than their own barque- at least it was if it ever came down to a confrontation. Anywhere from twenty guns to thirty, and certainly more than the eight Rin had permitted his ship to be outfitted with. The others had been long since decommissioned. They would have to be swift to outmaneuver that ship, and with the sails still damaged and wood-rot in a few highly strategic places, Rei wasn't sure they could muster the turn of speed that would permit escape.

It was only a matter of time before they were caught, and that time was drawing ever nearer while the captain wasted his time seeking vengeance for a slight he had richly deserved… and there was the tattered remains of his upbringing raring its ugly head. Two years aboard the _Samenoe_ and he had not been able to discard what years of propriety had wrought in him. Rei did not delude himself that he was any sort of pirate, despite his position aboard this ship.

He turned at the sound of light steps making their way across the deck to his post.

"N-Nitori." He stuttered, remembering the disastrous encounter over supper. Disastrous to his mind, at least, he could feel a blush of shame painting his ears pink with embarrassment. Really, he shouldn't allow Nagisa's preferences to govern his conduct with the rest of the crew… to gossip, and worse yet be caught at it by the object of their speculation, was humiliating.

Rei straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat, a half-formed apology rising to his lips. "I wanted to apologize for my conduct earlier this evening. It was not my place to speculate-" His throat was too dry to continue; he dipped into a graceful bow, hoping it would convey his meaning without appearing too obsequious.

Nitori strode to his side, glancing out to the ship in the distance. "It's far closer now." He squinted, "But still just beyond my sight. How is it that you don't need your spyglass?"

Unsettled by the turn of the conversation, it took Rei a few moments to respond. Nitori waited patiently, no judgment or ire reflected in his pale eyes.

"I have always had exceptional vision-"

"And yet I have seen you squint to read the maps set just before your face, and you have used more willowbark this past month than any of the others combined."

"A consequence of seeing so far, I suppose. My eyes tire easily."

Nitori shook his head, stepping closer in a movement too quick for Rei to notice."I think it is less a matter of fatigue and more of focus. You have hyperopia."

"I- Beg pardon?"

"It is nothing that need concern you. If I had the materials to hand, I could fashion spectacles to remove the problem entirely. Perhaps the next time we make land I could find them."

A bizarre peace-offering, but practical too. Unsure of what the protocol for receiving such an offer demanded, Rei held his silence and only offered another polite bow.

Rei cast a final discerning look toward shore and then to the horizon before focusing the whole of his attention upon the enigma that was their ship's surgeon. "You have done much to improve the health of this crew since you came aboard."

The look Nitori flashed him said plainly this much should be obvious; "I am a healer. That is _my_ duty, and I am as capable in my performance of it as you are at yours."

"Of course, I didn't mean-" No. He would not be put on the defensive now; this was the longest time he had ever spent alone with Nitori, and the only opportunity he was likely to have for quite some time.

"It's only, why _were_ you aboard that ship? In the brig, I mean."

"It hardly matters since your captain elected to release me." Nitori's smile was deeply unsettling, Rei shifted away from him minutely, thinking of those wicked blades he used in his profession.

"Yes, but- to imprison a surgeon of your skill-"

Nitori watched him struggle to find the words a few minutes longer before mercifully completing the thought. "My crime must have been heinous."

"Yes."

"I do not regret it even the slightest."

"But it was… heinous?" Rei wasn't sure why he felt the need to press, but Nitori had not rebuffed his inquiry even now. That was not to say he invited it, but Rei would accept his tolerance for the gift it was.

"Far beyond what most agree to be the boundaries of human decency."

"Most?"

"I've always found the human capacity for cruelty far exceeds the depth of their compassion." It was a dismissal and a warning; if Rei had been good at detecting or heeding either one, he would still be the spare child of an aging aristocrat bound to military service rather than the life he had chosen in its place.

"And yet you chose to be a surgeon." Rei smiled triumphantly.

"And _you_ are a pirate. Our respective professions do not represent us." Rei's smile vanished as Nitori's grew wider. "I think you are the only genuine man of conscience aboard this vessel, Rei. You should be wary of assuming we all possess one."

It was a shock hearing his name on those lips, and spoken with such respect as Rei had not heard in years. Often the crew called his name with a ring of mockery just beneath; Nagisa imbued it with warmth and affection, Rin with command and Mako with the same courtesy he accorded anyone. Even in his days prior to joining this ragtag outfit, Rei had only ever heard it pronounced with the artificial deference due his station.

He was pathetically grateful for that single, thoughtless word, and hoped it did not reflect too greatly in his expression.

Flustered, Rei peered over the edge of the ship and marveled at his good fortune.

There were sharks in the water of the human variety, and it appeared they were just preparing to set to work with the chisels they held in hand.

He opened his mouth to shout for aid, but Nitori placed a silencing hand over his mouth, featherlight but more effective than any gag. Rei bent to hear his words, shivering unconsciously at the feel of warm breath tickling his ear, "Arm yourself and return. We can pick them off before they are even aware they have been spotted."

" _Kill_ them?" Rei murmured with dismay, eyeing Nitori with a new understanding.

"Death is exactly what they intend for us, therefore it is what they will receive in their turn."

"No. We'll find another way-"

"What other way?" No annoyance in the tone, only idle curiosity overlaid with blatant indulgence.

"We arm ourselves. Hold them at gunpoint until Rin returns; we can negotiate a release."

"Neither party will be open to negotiation."

"With murder as the only alternative, that will change." Rei spoke with more confidence than he felt. These people had no long-range weapons, and Rin had always preferred not to end a raid with a bloodbath, but this time was different. His crew had been held, however briefly and it was not an insult he was likely to forget soon.

Nitori left him without another word, presumably seeking out the weapons he had promised. Rei watched, and waited.

 

 

 

Makoto's breathing did not slow until he could feel the wood of his beloved ship against his fingertips, resting against it as his heartbeat slowed its hectic rhythm. It was a wonder they had managed to come so near without Rei spotting them; either he was too focused on the approaching ship or there was a more pressing emergency aboard. Makoto favored the former, personally, while Rin was clearly fretting over the latter.

"Where the hell is he?" Rin hissed.

Nagisa opened his mouth to shout out, but Rin raised a quieting hand, treading water gracefully. "Listen, do you hear that?"

Now that his panting breaths no longer dulled his hearing, Mako could just make out the hum of voices… men and women. It couldn't be coming from the ship then.

"I think it must be a sneak attack." Rin whispered, dipping farther beneath the water to cover the sound of his movements.

"How do we proceed?"

"Call up the warning to Rei." Nagisa growled, clearly taking this attack far more personally than it strictly merited. Any attack the _Samenoe_ was an attack against all of them.

"Then we lose the benefit of surprise."

"Not much of an advantage here in the water. They're island dwellers, they have grown up in these waters and drawn their livelihood from it." Rin blew impatient bubbles in the water, grimacing at the salty aftertaste.

Mako smirked, nudging Rin playfully, "You _did_ promise me a dolphin."

"I did." Rin agreed, catching his meaning instantly. The ability to communicate beyond mere words was a talent they had shared for some years now.

"What do we do?" Nagisa growled, "My gunpowder is wet and useless, otherwise we're unarmed!"

"We'll circle around quietly, see how many there are and if they have any more weapons than we. If not, we call up to Rei for assistance and take one to ensure the good behavior of the rest."

"Done." Makoto mouthed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's not as short as I thought it would be, but it's still abbreviated. I should have the next bit up sometime this weekend. 
> 
> And with it the return of UST. This time it's there to stay. :p
> 
> *Staggers back into midterm haze*


	8. Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin has finally got his man, except that Haruka isn't exactly opposed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief note here: A Red Seal ship is a merchant vessel with a permit from the Tokugawa shogunate to engage in trade.
> 
> This is in no way an agreement to abide by the laws of history however, I do tend to butcher it for my own purposes. 
> 
> If this is a subject of any interest, I would strongly recommend Stephen Turnbull's "Fighting Ships of the Far East", a little dated, but a good reference.

Logically Haruka knew it had only been a handful of minutes since he had first separated from his crew; sadly, logic wasn't keeping his abused body warm or his overactive mind from worrying.

They had inflicted no small amount of damage, his crew; the bilge pumps would have to work hard to keep out the incoming water- if he'd had a way of getting aboard the ship he would have gladly disabled those too, but short of betraying his presence to the night watchman and being taken aboard, he couldn't find a way to accomplish it.

Then inspiration had struck: with the apparent damage already done to the ship by summer storms and the way his crew had so easily stoved in the lowest point of the hull, how much more trouble would these raiders be in if they could not even steer their ship from hostile waters? It shouldn't take much more than a minute to sever the rudder's line, and then this fine vessel would be left adrift regardless of her captain's skill.

Perhaps he could even take command of her himself after negotiating a truce at sword point. It might be beneficial, having a ship on hand to warn away anyone that thought his home undefended.

Miho's shrill screech broke the still night air and Haruka didn't bother stifling his reckless grin; Miho had a powerful voice, one more befitting a harpy than the demure young woman she usually pretended to be. Haru treasured those moments her temper got the better of her, and after being held at scalpel's edge by a _physician_ of all people, Miho was not feeling particularly demure tonight.

He slipped beneath the water slowly, the water leeching the last bit of warmth from his skin; this would have to be quick, there was still the swim back to shore to consider. Goro would be waiting there with warm blankets and a fire pit to welcome the returning victors.

The breath shivered out of him as he finally descended, making his way by instinct to the tiller's lines; it would do no good to open his eyes here- between the darkness and the salt sting it would do more harm than anything else. It took a couple minutes of floundering aimlessly before he could find the way, and by then he had to return to the surface for a gulp of sweet air before retracing his route. Miho would not thank him if he drowned before his job was done.

When he surfaced again, panting, aching and thoroughly satisfied with the work he had accomplished, Haruka knew something had changed. He could still hear the voices of his crew somewhere near the bow, and an occasional silence when the watchman answered- and really, what sort of conversation could they be having?- but there was also the soft swish of someone cutting through water, not particularly concerned that their presence might be noticed.

Had Miho sent someone back to collect him? That was not unlike her, Haruka teased her sometimes over her need to mother anyone under her charge, but she would never do so if she thought their mission was at stake. It couldn't possibly be the ship's crew returning, the oars of their dinghy, even muffled with cloth, should have made enough noise to alert him to their presence.

Haru drew a handful of deep breaths, sinking beneath the surface until only his eyes remained above. The figure that came into view, glancing cautiously over his shoulder, was not entirely unexpected but certainly disappointing.

Then again, every setback could be an opportunity in disguise. Haru dropped his tools and sank the final few centimeters, he would need his hands free for this.

 

 

 

By the time Nitori returned from his scavenging expedition, whatever strange mood had gripped him was obviously long since passed. He didn't so much as offer a greeting before slipping back to his old post. Rei mourned the loss of the man he had spoken with not a quarter hour gone, but it was still a marked accomplishment, finding that their surgeon had a heretofore unsuspected streak of normalcy somewhere between timid shadow and relentless adversary.

Much as he would have preferred not to handle the weapon himself, Nitori was insistent that he take it. This would all be so much simpler if Nagisa were present; Rei knew something of firearms, but only as they were used in formal duels. He had never actually participated even as a second, and confronted with the possibility of being forced to demonstrate his non-existent skill, Rei found himself unsure how he was going to carry through.

He glanced down at the water, the moonlight playing on the waves and obscuring the forms below. It was difficult to fix on any of them, the way the light shifted so; was that a limb or a tool? Were there five or six, less or more?

Enough. Better to pretend confidence and let them wonder at how much his eyes could see.

"B'low! Drop your tools or be slain!"

A muffled shriek of rage drifted up to him on the night wind. Good god, these savages had brought a _woman_ to fight their battle?

When a broken implement sailed past his head with impossible speed Rei quickly modified the definition of 'woman' to include 'harridan' or perhaps 'virago'. Even a grown man would have had the devil of a time chucking such a light implement so high. Standard rules of chivalry need not be observed, he assured himself- _she_ had attacked _him_ after all.

The other shapes didn't appear to be complying with his directive either. Rei could have sworn he heard muffled laughter, and he watched as one of the shapes fully submerged, doubtless with chisel in hand to continue his work.

Rei glanced to Nitori from the corner of his eye, but the surgeon was staring up at the stars, lips moving almost imperceptibly with thought he didn't choose to speak aloud. Suppressing a sigh of annoyance, Rei forged ahead. "I will say it once more: drop your tools _immediately_ or I will fire."

At a sharp word from the woman- was she in charge?- the others handed her their chisels and spikes before fanning out to gaze up at him accusingly.

"What now? We can't just leave them down there."

Nitori tapped an impatient tattoo against the side of the ship. "Since you insist they be left alive, I'm not certain. You could solve the dilemma by firing."

"They're unarmed." Rei snapped impatiently, "They complied. It wouldn't be fair."

"What now, lover? Are you going to lower a rope, let us all clamber aboard and confine us to the brig?"

Raucous laughter greeted her words, jeers and cat-calls that Rei struggled valiantly to ignore.

"Which of you designates himself as leader?"

" _Her_ self, you pox-ridden son of a two-bit whore. Amakata Miho, not particularly at your service. Are we going to scream at each other all night or did you have something better in mind?"

"There are four of them." Nitori murmured, craning his neck to get a better look. "If you are not going to kill them, you've really no choice but to let them go. Dark as it is, perhaps the currents will take them before they reach shore."

"Rin would hang me from the mainsail for birdbait."

"The captain has not yet returned, you cannot be sure he wouldn't order the same."

Rei could hardly hear himself think over the jibes of the crew below, the mocking questions and the splash of limbs. It was beginning to wear on his already frayed nerves.

"Find a rope, we'll tie a decent knot and drop it down for the woman. We can bring her aboard and hold her until the others agree to leave in peace."

Nitori snorted, tone laced with wry amusement. "Of course." He slipped off across the deck without another word, leaving Rei alone with their dubious captives.

"Would you be willing to drop your equipment and make immediately for shore?" Rei queried, hoping against hope the answer would be 'yes', or better yet compliance.

The outright braying from the party below assured him that had never been an option.

 

 

 

Much as he would have liked to keep Makoto near during what was surely his most trying ordeal in years, it fell to Rin to play the hammer in this maneuver. If he swam the circumference of the ship as quickly as his limbs could take him and swooped in on the opposite side of their attackers while Nagisa and Makoto attacked from the other, this crew would be caught in between Rin's hammer and Makoto's anvil.

Obliged to carry the metaphor to its natural conclusion, Rin indulged in a brief fantasy of thrashing his enemies _flat_ for daring to carry out their plans against his ship. It would have been another matter entirely to target the crew; there wasn't a man aboard that could not hold his own in combat unless it was Nitori- and even that had come under question in light of recent events- but to attack Rin's _ship_ was to attack his home and sanctuary.

Rin's luck would wax and wane, crewmembers would be lost to the sea or their own ambitions, but the _Samenoe_ would always belong to him and that small handful he knew would never leave her deck except for shore-leave. Come down to it, not one of them had ever taken a leave exceeding a week; it was uncomfortable to rest on solid ground and after so long with only his comrades for company, the masses of strangers had started an _itch_ between Rin's shoulder blades that had not disappeared until the ship was safely in his keeping once more.

Now these island _savages_ were destroying his home, and battered as she already was, Rin wasn't sure how much more she could take. He didn't bother muffling his strokes, the splashing wouldn't be heard over the cacophony up near the prow anyway; Rin poured all his strength into speed and prayed the effort would warm his rapidly numbing skin. Nitori had better have blankets handy when they were brought aboard or every last one of the shore crew would catch their death of cold.

He paused for a few minutes to catch his breath, treading water while his teeth chattered as he blew warm breaths onto his fingertips. It would do no appreciable good, the temperature had begun to drop as soon as the heat of the day had passed, but he took comfort knowing he would not be alone in his pain- Haruka's gathering had to have been caught in the icy water longer than his.

Shaking off his reverie, Rin struck out once more, keeping himself near to the ship. It was a risk, swimming this close; if a stray current caught him or a patch of turbulent water he could as easily be pulled under, but he had every confidence in his abilities, and not much of a choice.

As he rounded the stern, something twined about his ankle- a stray bit of kelp perhaps; thoughtlessly he kicked it away, only to feel the unmistakable grip of fingers clamping around his ankle and yanking hard enough to disrupt his rhythm. Damn, had they actually anticipated this tactic? Pointless to wonder, he'd be finding out soon enough.

Forcing himself to expel the last bit of life-giving air from his lungs, Rin allowed himself to be pulled under, flailing until at last his foot was set free. Not the wisest choice, there was a reason he wasn't a scholar- the effort of freeing himself from that grip had his lungs screaming for oxygen and his throat worked while he fought the compulsion to suck in water. It would do him no good to free himself and then die here because of his own idiocy.

When a sinewy arm closed about his throat and legs began to tangle with his, his anger returned and he forgot the pressing need for air, focusing more on hurting the sneaky bastard that had ambushed him. He was _not_ going to die in the fucking water; this was his element, and by the time they finished here, this poor fool would know it.

It was difficult, getting his frigid fingers to curl into any semblance of claws, but once he had done so, Rin raked them mercilessly across his attacker's abdomen. It took a moment more with their grappling, but finally his other hand found purchase in the assailant's hair… and down to his eyes where Rin scratched desperately.

An opening! The confining arm relaxed just enough that he was able to eel out of the unforgiving grip, twisting to put himself face-to-face with his enemy, and locking his legs about the other man's hips; he couldn't be the only one dying for a breath of fresh air, this would soon become a matter of who could stay conscious the longest. Rin would have been pleased to offer coin in his own favor.

It was over in a matter of minutes, though it felt like _hours_ to Rin; he could almost pity the bastard for picking this fight. With the extra few minutes he'd had above water, the fight was decided in his favor when that thrashing body finally went limp, leaving Rin bruised and aching, cuts stinging from the salt water and head splitting without precious air.

On a whim, he pulled the body to the surface, coughing and hacking as he struggled to spit water in exchange for sweet life; Makoto's fear of these waters had never been more understandable to him. Blinking his eyes to clear them of the brine, Rin glanced to his opponent- conscious and glaring at him malevolently while his chest heaved for sucking in air. He didn't struggle, but there was a tenseness in his figure that suggested he was only a moment away from it.

"Haruka." Rin spat, regretting the impulse almost immediately. His greedy lings did not want to surrender the air even to speak.

"Rin." Haruka growled, and for a moment a smile danced across his lips and was gone. What the hell did he have to smile about?

"Your crew's up front, what th'hell you doin' here?" He panted, still keeping his grip.

"Tell your watchman to stop menacing my crew and I might tell you."

"Better idea. Tell me first, _then_ we'll see to your crew." Haruka's nails sunk into the flesh of his hips, biting deep. He yanked viciously at the black locks tangled in his own fingers, pulling Haruka's head back to bare his vulnerable throat. "Let me go or I will rip your throat out with my teeth, I swear it."

Reluctantly Haruka released him, gasping a smothered laugh. "Hardly matters. Your ship is compromised, captain. And the navy on its way- I wonder how you will save your crew from _this_ mistake?"

"First I think we had better save your crew from theirs."

 

 

 

"Where the hell is Rin?" Nagisa hissed, trailing lightly beside Makoto. It had been easy-going to this point, but now that they arrived at the moment of truth, Rin hadn't seen fit to show himself for the ambush. Little good an anvil could do without a hammer.

"Rin will come. We will do as we have been told; Rei isn't much for bluffing, and this lot has that figured out."

"What makes you think Rei's bluffing? He'll blow them out of the water if they get out of hand." Nagisa growled defensively; he never liked it when anyone else pointed out Rei's weaknesses, it was a privilege he reserved solely for himself.

"Then we have nothing to worry about. Circle and advance. I count four; keep them in your sights."

"But Mako-"

Makoto had already slipped beneath the waves, making his way toward their objective. This man was going to get him killed, Nagisa was certain of it; nevertheless, he followed.

 

 

 

Miho offered a feral grin to the poor boy on deck that was convinced he had her in his sights. The water had a funny way of distorting proportions, if he were any kind of marksman he would know that and adjust his aim accordingly. Not that it would do much good- she wondered if he were familiar with the concept of a ricochet and what exactly a bullet would do if it struck the water at a bad angle when she submerged to avoid his shot.

Better not to tempt him; the last time someone had actually managed to get a shot off at her, Haruka had kept her off shore-duty for _months._ She had serious doubts this child would work up the backbone to fire like he had promised he would, but it was hardly worth the risk.

Besides, she recognized the man beside him. Nitori Aiichiro, the mad surgeon. She had no way of knowing if that one knew his guns, but Miho would wager her last silver he had the will to learn. If she goaded the poor boy too much, that one might step in and take the decision from his hands.

"Would you be willing to drop your equipment and make immediately for shore?" Spoken in such plaintive tones Miho could not do anything but laugh until her ribs ached; she heard the echo of others joining her. This one had no way of knowing that was precisely what she wanted to do, if only Haruka would come back already. How long could it take to sever the tiller's line? If he was going to have this much of a problem with it why not send her instead?

"We will _not_." She ground out, some of her frustration, even worry, bleeding into her tone. She couldn't even send one of the others to seek him out, not with the sentry keeping such a careful eye on them. That would put their whole objective at risk… and Miho was just about ready to do so if it meant bringing Haruka back. She had no doubt they could make it to shore faster in these waters, but if there were another dinghy aboard that ship it would be too much of a risk.

Dammit. This was why Haruka was supposed to be in charge!

A disturbance to her right caught her attention before she could tell the boy exactly what she _could_ do with her instruments.

"Ambush!"

She dove for the source of the shout, trying in vain to spot which of the bodies in that tangle of limbs belonged to her crewmate and which to the fool that thought taking them on in open water was a good idea. Just as she turned, someone behind her took up the cry. How many nuisances did they have in the water? Miho shot the boy on deck a venomous look, noting that he had lowered his weapon and was watching these antics with the same confusion that had gripped her.

An impromptu attack then, nothing organized. There was a point in her favor.

"Group to the center! Keep 'em off your back!" She twisted every which way, searching the water for any sign of others and kicking ferociously lest they dare to come up beneath her. Anyone thinking to pull her under would find themselves with a battle on their hands, but it was the tactic she would employ if the situation was reversed.

In a matter of seconds she had her people safely grouped beside her, chisels held more like knives, facing outward as they searched for any signs of an incoming attack. The water was disturbingly quiet, though she could hear relieved laughter coming from above. Idiot. Her work was done, all that was left now was to wait for Haruka and make their way back to shore for a much-needed rest followed by what she hoped would be a truly outrageous amount of food.

"Are they under?" She couldn't be certain who has asked, the voice too low to be certain of, but the question had merit. Had they withdrawn?

Unlikely. But neither would it be wise to try pulling anyone under; grouped this closely, she could order those that were unrestrained to bludgeon the clever trickster to death.

"Probably." She murmured sotto voice, scanning the water.

"We should go back."

"We're waiting for Haruka. That is nonnegotiable."

"He's the best swimmer-"

"I said we wait." She growled, cutting off at a sharp bark of laughter from somewhere ahead. The silhouettes of their attackers came back into view- two of them, only two against four and those two unarmed? Miho fancied her odds of winning were considerably greater, especially now that they had sacrificed the advantage of surprise.

Which beggared the question- why?

A third figure made its way through the water, cutting sharply through it like a hot knife through butter. She would have known that form anywhere. "Haruka."

And beside him, a fourth figure… Three to four still wasn't _bad_ odds exactly, and with only a single shot pistol above- yes, this was manageable.

"Miho." Haruka's voice carried across the water with little trouble, but she couldn't hardly make out the symbols his stiff fingers struggled to form. What- oh. Oh. Yes. That would work. Risky, though. She didn't care for it, and fired back a sequence of signs meant to tell him so. Not that he would listen to her.

"Stop it." The one to his right snapped, "Or didn't your parents teach you it is rude to trade secrets in front of guests?" He glanced up and she caught the face of the captain- there was something she hadn't been counting on.

"Aren't you lot supposed to be in the dinghy?" Miho hoped the scorn dripping from her words would singe his ears, but he only chuckled.

Another spoke, the one with the steady gaze she thought, and the placating tongue, "We might never have caught you if your people ashore hadn't scuttled her. We are grateful you could not do the same for our ship."

_You have No idea, lover._

"Rei, you want to bring us aboard? Four of us, mind. We're keeping one for good behavior."

"Aye, captain."

"Nagisa, you'll be going up first to keep an eye on this one when he's aboard. Rei has a gun waiting for you. Haruka follows, then Makoto, then myself."

"They'll take you-" Makoto began, but Rin waved it off unconcernedly.

"They won't. Because if anyone comes so much as an inch nearer, Rei's going to shoot them. Aren't you, Rei?" Miho winced, the thought had maybe crossed her mind that they could turn this into a hostage exchange regardless of Haruka's wishes. With his captain present now, she couldn't trust the boy to keep his finger from the trigger though, and he would have no difficulty shooting Haruka at point blank range regardless of his skill.

 

 

 

Haruka could see the moment Miho discarded whatever madcap plan she had been devising for his escape. It simply wasn't advisable now. Not twenty minutes past he had been hoping for a way to clamber aboard this vessel, and now the captain offered him an engraved invitation. Truly fate had favored him today.

With any luck they would throw him directly into the brig and he could work out a means of spreading the damage however he knew how. It wouldn't be quite that simple, it never was, but Haru had faith in his ability.

Clearly, Miho did not. Her gestures had been nothing short of inflammatory; if she were anyone other than his closest friend he might have taken offense. As it was, the woman had practically raised him and she deserved her right to offer council. Even if Haruka was certain he was right.

He didn't take his eyes from her as a thick woven rope was lowered for Nagisa, continued to watch when his turn came and he slipped into the makeshift hammock of binding himself. Had no one thought to use a net? It would have been infinitely less abrasive than the rough rope woven about his hips and calves. It would hurt later though, for now the cold stung far worse.

Haru held his breath once he was out of the water, praying Miho's patience would hold these last few minutes. His own was wearing painfully thin with the trigger-happy monkey gleefully leveling that damned pistol at his face. If he hadn't been so determined to stay aboard, Haru thought he might well have taken that pistol and showed the boy why it was never wise to hold a weapon so close to one's captive.

But then he would also have had to contend with the sentry, obviously far stronger than his frame suggested, and the surgeon who was keeping a weather eye on him even as he was clearly worrying himself over Nagisa's state. The water had not done well by any of them; it would do even less for Miho and those with her. They had to get back to shore immediately.

"Let me help."

"What?" The watchman panted, hauling at the ropes with single-minded determination.

"The sooner they are up, the sooner my crew goes. Let me _help_."

To Haruka's surprise, it was the surgeon that spoke in his favor, low but authoritative "He's right. We need to get them out of the water and into the galley. There should still be a fire burning."

Rei glanced to the surgeon once, nodding his approval before gesturing Haruka aside him. Nagisa blew out a frustrated breath, but he lowered his pistol with only a single reproachful glare for the healer.

Haruka hid his smirk as best he could; again, the fates smiled on him. The surgeon would be his angle of attack when it came time to maneuver himself into position; he was a man of reason, and it seemed at least two of the crew would be willing to go where he pointed.

 

* * *

 

 

It was the eyes, Seijuurou decided.

Every time he thought the ship was finally under his control once more, the final authority wrested from the clinging hands of his cabin boy- cabin _girl_ , he corrected, Gou insisted upon the distinction regardless of the crew's jibes and knowing leers- he found himself staring down into pleading brown eyes. Eyes that said she had expected better of him, that _of course_ the choice was his, but it was cruel of him to make the wrong one.

And like the love-struck fool that he was, it never ceased to sway him in exactly the direction Matsuoka Gou had hoped for.

This time, though, this time he would hold his ground and rot her eyes because she knew the decision was out of his hands. The crew hadn't signed on to sail out of imperially protected waters. The last thing he wanted was to encounter a red-seal ship while he carried the youngest daughter of the Matsuoka clan aboard his vessel. It was a tragedy in the making.

"That is his ship, I am certain of it." Gou perched on the very edge of his bed, despite his protests and pleas. "Take a seat." He had said, and she certainly had, but not the one he had gestured toward.

"And _this_ is my ship-"

"My family paid for it." She countered, grinning devilishly at him in one of those mercurial shifts of mood he had witnessed countless times. If the brother was as crafty as the sister, Sei wasn't certain how he could be expected to keep his ship afloat bearing the both of them.

"Your family paid handsomely for its _use_." She was trying to distract him again, and regretfully he could not permit it. "But that is beside the point. If that is not your brother's ship, we are turning back to the mainland directly. I will sail no further."

"It hardly matters. That is my brother's ship. I feel it."

When she had first come aboard, or rather, when he had first discovered her concealed in a crate that should have been dried beans, he had scoffed at her talk of instincts of gut feelings. Only they had invariably proven true, and man of science though he claimed to be, Mikoshiba Seijuuro was not above confessing that his years at sea had infected him with superstition.

"It appears to be a merchant vessel-"

"He commandeered it from our shipyard years ago. Of course it is a merchant vessel!" Now she was vexed, he could read it in her stiff posture and prim pose, hands clasped neatly on her lap and legs held tightly together the way all young ladies were taught. His own sisters had perfected the martial stance to an art, though it had an altogether different effect when performed in a proper gown rather than the boy's trousers Gou had insisted upon wearing over his vociferous protests.

"I am only suggesting that is not uncommon to find a merchant's vessel in these waters. Finding Rin so many years after his disappearance-"

"Escape."

"Is highly improbable. I would not like you to be disappointed." His voice softened on that last word, hand reaching out to rest on her shoulder in a mute offering of support.

Gou shook her head, still frowning at him, though far less severely. "It is Rin. I will not be disappointed."

"I hope not." Sei yanked teasingly at a frazzled lock of hair, chuckling when she hissed and lurched away from him. Over these last months, stolen time, he had accepted that Gou was a vain creature- no matter how often he protested that she was quite pretty the response would always be a scathing comment that _anyone_ at all could be pretty when taken in comparison with his crew.

Given the number of times he had caught her mooning after men in uniform when she thought they would not see, he thought it safe to say she didn't truly mean the words. Her hair wold always be a sticking point, though; she hadn't thought that through before stowing away. There were water rations for bathing, but not so much as she had been used to, and after three days in the salt air, her hair had become stiff and unyielding, defying her best attempts to tame it. She _loathed_ when anyone touched it then, and that was what he counted on.

She had scurried off his bed and to the door in the second it took him to smirk at her annoyance.

"Don't touch my hair. It's foul."

"You can bathe again tomorrow." Sei allowed some of his amusement to show at his own peril; he swore he could feel his eyes sparkling with it.

"Tomorrow is too late."

"I will inform the quartermaster when next we put into port that he must provision us with an extra share of all necessities in case of stow-aways."

"You should."

"Regulation says I _should_ throw you overboard or toss you in the brig until we reach the next port. Do not tell me what I _should_ do, miss, I know it."

Her sniff was disdainful and a little offended, but she tipped her head respectfully before dipping out of his cabin. He waited for a count of three before sticking his head out to ensure she was on her way and not waiting with a bucket of soapy water to toss on him. She had done that once, her first week on duty and he had lost the use of a perfectly good uniform, but Sei did not carry freeloaders. He had made it exceedingly apparent when she crawled out of that crate and pleaded with him to keep her aboard that she would earn her way the same as any other crewman.

A night spent scrubbing dishes in the galley and a morning shining the boots of every crewman aboard had cured her of any destructive pranks. It had also made him feel like a monster when her delicate skin had developed a rash from the lye, and when the bootblack had ruined her only kerchief as well as staining her nose for a full two days so that he'd been forced to hand down orders that the crew was not permitted to mention it lest she refuse to emerge from their quarters for the rest of the voyage.

Therein was the worst of it. What was a captain to do with a young lady that was so inconsiderate as to subtly co-opt the command of his ship? For all that she held the position of cabin girl and occasional galley scut, she was still a _lady_ , and assigning her to crew's quarters was out of the question. The navy had at least a dozen guidelines dealing with the subject of women aboard ship and he was breaking every one simply allowing her to stay aboard.

The only choice had been to offer her the use of _his_ cabin, which she had eagerly accepted. After a week of sleeping in a hammock while she made use of the bed, he had finally put in for another- assigning her a much smaller cot in the far corner of the room. Not terribly chivalrous, but Sei had learned his lesson about allowing her the use of his after one of the crewman had stumbled into his room and jumped to all the conclusions that would mean death to a lady's reputation once home.

He still couldn't be sure if his threats had been enough to deter gossip, but given the suggestive looks the crew tossed his way, the best guess was no.

Yet another problem to deal with in its time, but for now they had to focus on the problem of Rin. Bloody, thrice-damned, sister-endangering Matsuoka Rin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to include all that happened after Haru was captured, but the chapter was getting out of hand again, so that will be next.
> 
> The bad news is, this next chapter will mark the last bit that I have even partially written so the next update might take a while. The good news is I'm coming up on reading week so I should be able to fix that soon. :)


	9. Burning for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruka sets his plan into motion. Whether it was _entirely_ his plan is up for debate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Cough* The chapter title is taken from Blue Oyster Cult's "Burning for You" because I've been binge-watching Supernatural and it was either that or "Kiss of Fire" because the world could always use more Georgia Gibbs. :)

No sooner had Makoto's feet touched the deck than Nitori was chivying them toward the galley, tutting at the state of their clothes as though they weren't all staring death in the face. He couldn't speak for the rest of them, but Mako's legs were barely able to support him; without Rin's steadying weight, he knew he would have fallen.

It was hard to say whether the tremors were owed more to the biting cold or sheer relief. He and Rin would have to talk about the importance of secondary plans and _not_ tossing his crew into treacherous waters without so much as a by-your-leave. Most of all, Makoto wanted to seek the warmth and comfort of Rin's bed and not stir from it until the ice in his veins had thawed.

He very nearly tripped down the stairs, prevented from doing so only by Rin's firm grip on his arm; Makoto felt a small stab of resentment that these men should see him so weak- Rin and he would discuss that later too.

Steam rose from their garments at the sudden heat of the galley fire, roaring in the small pit Rin had constructed precisely for that use. Makoto had heard the justification for it many times and reviewed Rin's work himself to ensure its soundness, but nothing would ever accustom him to the idea of an open fire aboard ship; tonight he was grateful for it, this once.

Nitori's agile fingers began to peel the shirt from Nagisa's back, his low voice hissing a command to be still; Nagisa obeyed without protest for once, helping Nitori with the work as much as his stiff limbs would allow.

"All of you, clothes off. Pile them at your feet and move to the fire." Nitori glanced to Haruka, gesturing to the man's frayed outfit. "Including you."

Not one of them hesitated to obey; modesty had never been a failing aboard this ship, and evidently the islander took a healthy view of survival as well.

Rei stumbled in just then, a self-congratulatory smile in place, "Captain, I dispatched the i-" His eyes widened impossibly, cheeks flaming red with embarrassment, "That is… I-"

"Fetch blankets from anywhere you can find them. As many as you can carry." Nitori's voice was calm and professional, exactly the tone required to spur Rei into swift action. He was gone almost as soon as he had come, sprinting across the deck for the make-shift infirmary and the clean sheets Nitori so prided himself on.

"He's as modest as my maiden-aunt." Rin chattered, trying to smile but finding his facial muscles would not obey. "How the hell do you manage with him, Nagisa? Or is he still a blushing virgin?"

"No more a virgin than your aunt." Nagisa winked lewdly despite his twitching cheeks, "Not a maiden any more, I can tell you."

The two of them wheezed with companionable laughter, sinking to the warm floorboards and entirely ignoring their too-silent captive. Haruka had not stopped taking a catalog of everything to hand since they had stepped foot on deck. This one was going to be trouble; Makoto thought perhaps he had better suggest to Rin they toss him overboard as soon as they were far enough from shore. He'd swim back to his and they could be on their way without fear of the natives attacking them.

Rin crouched before the fire, drawing his knees up to his chest and glancing back to him with guilt written plainly in his bright eyes. That was part of Rin's charm, that he showed his emotions so plainly for anyone to read if they had even half a mind to.

Tonight Makoto found it vexed him; could the man not see he was openly displaying a vulnerability to a crew that depended on him to have none? Not that any would dare to exploit it, not while Mako still held the position of first mate, but voluntary weakness was something he had personally never tolerated in his subordinates, and Rin's casual attitude toward it was plucking at his last nerve.

"What are we to do with you, Nanase Haruka?" Rin murmured, half to himself.

"I thought the object was to keep me until my crew was well away from your ship." Haruka winced as he bit down on his tongue, swallowing roughly.

He wanted to stay. Makoto could read it in the gentle shifting of his weight and that small frown that didn't have a chance to settle on his features before it vanished again. This one was more subtle than Rin, but the cold had addled his wits and left him little better off.

"I daresay your crew is away from our ship. We could toss you overboard now and bother about you again." Rin glanced to Mako for confirmation, received it in a short nod. "But out of the goodness of our hearts we'll let you warm yourself a bit first. I wouldn't want it said we don't know the keeping of hostages."

Crashing footsteps heralded Rei's return, brandishing scratchy woolen blankets that might as well have been silk for how eagerly they were seized by grasping fingers.

"Wrap them about your chests." Nitori ordered, "The heart is the seat of man's fire, you must keep it warm."

Well enough, he was the doctor and it was as plausible an explanation as Makoto had ever heard. He bundled the blanket about him and sank down before the fire, curling in on himself to stop the minute tremors that still wracked him.

Rei swatted Nagisa's hands away gently, seeing to the task himself and draping his own coat over the smaller man's shoulders for extra measure. Nitori smiled to himself as though he had expected nothing less, and swiping a cleaning towel from the counter top began to dry Rin's hair.

"You're going to get grease all through my hair." Rin ground out, clenching his teeth to keep them from chattering any longer.

"Yes, and you will thank me for it when your body begins to warm itself again. Allow your teeth to chatter, it will make you warmer."

"I begin to think you must have been banished because you are a back-alley hack." Nevertheless, Rin allowed his teeth to chatter and made no more fuss over the vigorous toweling he was receiving.

Makoto waited his turn patiently, wincing at the rancid smell. As soon as Nitori said it was permitted, he was going to draw up a hot bath and cleanse this foulness. If he could bring himself to submerge in water ever again after tonight.

It was a soothing balm though, watching Nitori towel dry their captive's hair. Haruka visibly recoiled when Nitori stepped into place behind him, tensing for flight when he felt the first touch of the cloth. Something in the quality of Nitori's touch evidently alerted him that if he ran it would be his last act as a living man; Makoto was willing to bet every last coin to his name Nitori still had a scalpel tucked somewhere on his person. His body shouted confidence and ease from the proud tilt of his chin to the set of his shoulders.

Unsurprisingly, Nagisa was the first to recover, bearing Nitori's attentions with uncharacteristic patience before shrugging out of Rei's jacket and tossing his blanket to Rin. "It's hot as hell's furnace in here, and it smells about as pleasant. I'm heading to my bunk." Nagisa waited a beat, glancing to Rin for an objection that never came, "Is Rei off duty?"

"Hm?" Rin blinked several times, pulling his eyes from their captive with effort. Interesting. "Oh. Oh yes, send someone up to cover for you, Rei. Get some rest."

Nitori cut in, tilting his head deferentially to his captain. "I would prefer it if Nagisa spent the night under my care. The crew's quarters are significantly cooler than a cabin."

Panic flickered across Nagisa's expression; blind, animal, panic that sent a bolt of amusement through Makoto. After months of torturing the surgeon pitilessly he had at last learned what it meant to fear. Tonight there was no cause for it, Nitori's face betrayed no intentions beyond the professional, and his posture was one of earnest entreaty, hardly the mark of a man bent on vengeance.

"Captain, I'd gladly go with him." Rei offered, no trace of nervousness in tone or face, but then _he_ had nothing to fear. Rei had never been one for taunting others, and in return few ever bothered to target him. The few aberrations had soon found themselves at Nagisa's mercy, and he had precious little to spare.

Rin shook off his lethargy, imbuing his voice and posture with its customary air of command. "Nagisa, do as our surgeon says. Rei, you may accompany him. Makoto and I will arrange our own quarters." As though Makoto had ever set foot in the first mate's quarters to begin with… now there was an idea.

"Captain, there is another matter that requires your attention-"

Rin's smile encompassed all the many reasons Mako had first come to love him: a perfect devil-may-care smirk tinged with wicked cunning. "Haruka will take _your_ quarters of course, Makoto. As our honored prisoner, we could do no less."

Clever man. There were times Rin could be a victim of his passions, not given to reflection. And there were times Makoto was convinced they dwelt in each other's thoughts. Seeing the open shock, not unmixed with disappointment that settled on Haruka's face, Makoto knew they had made the right choice.

His estimation of the man rose a notch when none of that consternation bled into his voice as he spoke, "I had thought I would be confined to the brig. My thanks." Accompanied by a dip of the head that hid his clenched jaw.

Makoto nearly chortled with pleasure; the man was beyond frustrated, hoping against hope that his fragile reminder would serve to tip the scales and land him in a cell. Rin was no simpleton; he would not be played like a fiddle by some blue-eyed upstart freshly caught.

"You should be." Rin murmured, drifting in and out of consciousness as his body soaked in the warmth of their surroundings. Much as he loved the water and waves, Rin was very much a creature of fire nd sunlight. It might well have been true what he had said that first day they had met, that saltwater ran in his veins, but it was fire that burned in his soul-

Makoto blinked dark spots of fatigue away, damned but he was waxing poetic in this false domestic scene. Time to cut this rest short before he ended up betraying as much of his state of mind as his shipmates were wont to do.

"I am warm enough, I think. Captain, if you would care to accompany me, I will keep you warm." Makoto allowed his voice to dip to a silky purr, watching Rin's eyes widen with interest. Haruka had noted the change as well and glanced between them in consternation, soon replaced with calculation. Oh, this _would_ be a challenge- one that Makoto was not up for tonight. Better to rest, take stock of the situation in the morning light.

Until then, Rin's body was warm as the Southern waters, and his body pliant and graceful with fatigue- a siren's call if ever there was one.

As Makoto helped him to his feet, he tipped a wink to Haruka. Rin woke up just long enough to give his final orders of the evening, "Rei, stay here until I send someone for our guest. Keep Nitori company."

"Aye, sir."

 

 

 

Rin couldn't help his paranoid glances all around the deck as he and Makoto made their swift way back to his cabin. His crew had seen him in dishabille before of course but… strutting around in no more than a thin blanket did seem to be pushing the boundaries of taste a little far.

Makoto was perfectly shameless; in fact, Rin could swear he caught the beginnings of an amused smile tugging at those wind-chapped lips the one time he dared to look at Mako's face. He studiously avoided looking again, at least until they had both slipped into his cabin and pulled the door to behind them.

Considerably more at ease, Rin shrugged out of his garment, tossing it carelessly to the floor and smirking at Makoto's moue of distaste; Makoto was very much a cat- every bit as fastidious and determined that everything should be kept in its proper place… unless he intended to play with it or maim it beyond recognition. Add to that his distaste for open water and-

Oh. They had not discussed that yet. The faint tendrils of good humor vanished as quickly as they had come. "Mako, I'm sorry. I didn't expect the dinghy to-"

"That is on both our heads. I do not think the islanders made off with it; it's probably drifting on the current even now."

"Even so, I _am_ sorry."

"That was my _one_ provision for boarding this vessel, Rin, that you not throw me to the sea-" He gestured Rin to silence when it appeared he might protest. "But it wasn't your fault. That was just Dame Fortune showing her fickle colors again- we ought to be used to it by now."

Despite the reassuring words, Rin could see now the unnatural pallor of Makoto's normally warm amber skin. Not all of that came from the cool night air, and even as he thought of the trial his fingers jumped and flexed uncertainly. Rin watched as he delicately snuffed the lantern, leaving the room in a pitch darkness only they two could navigate.

There was no celebratory wine tonight, no further discussion of the events that had transpired. When Rin tried to raise the subject again, tucked neatly in their comforting bed, legs twined with each other's for the added warmth, Mako hushed him and turned away. Certainly a captain could order his first mate to respond, and perhaps in the light of day he might have done so, but between the darkness and the silence he couldn't bring himself to order his lover to speak and so he allowed dreams to take him.

Warm water lapped at his back and his waist, tugging at him gently as he floated atop the waves. It was a familiar dream, one Rin had often enjoyed since childhood. The sun was high on the horizon and he could feel the warmth of it soaking into his bones. There was no land in sight, but there never was, and it had never concerned him; he knew better than to trust the sea's caprices, but if anyone was entitled to its benevolence it was he.

Tingling pleasure spread through him and he tipped his head back, allowing the water to play through the strands of his hair. It was the silence that nagged at him though; shouldn't there be gulls or the vague lapping of the waves against his form? Certainly, but all he heard echoing back to him was silence; tonight in particular it bothered him-

Until he heard a shrill, all too familiar scream and started awake, panting and gasping, hands reaching out blindly in the darkness for Makoto's familiar weight.

"Nightmare, you're fine." Ragged fingernails trailed along his sides, inciting already high-strung nerves, doubtless exactly what Makoto had intended. The man could manage nothing that was not calculated to his ends, and tonight of all nights Rin decided it purely annoyed the hell out of him.

"Damn straight it was a nightmare but _I'll_ decide when I'm fine." Rin snapped, shoving Makoto away with a little more force than was strictly necessary. Makoto only sighed his understanding, catching Rin before he could separate them entirely.

" _I_ was expecting to be the one sleeping lightly tonight; what is troubling you?"

"Can't remember." It was barely there at all, only the echo of a scream; no other impressions remained, but he could not forget that scream.

"Did someone shout out on deck?"

"All quiet above deck. Not so much as a mouse. I'd put that down to Grimmaulkin but that he's a lazy scamp." The old ship's cat was the butt of many a joke, but there wasn't a man aboard that would have willingly tossed him out. He wasn't much of a mouser, but the ship had never capsized while he was aboard- surely that meant he was a lucky one.

Rin could name many a ship without the benefit of a gnarled, old tomcat that sailed just fine, but damned if that little bastard didn't seek him out and curl up at his feet every time he considered replacing him with a younger mouser. Nagisa was about as useless and they still fed him, after all.

Slowly, Rin began to relax, focusing on the light stimulus of Makoto's fingers on his chilled flesh rather than the last tendrils of the dream. As his eyes finally began to drift closed once more, he felt the caresses take a more intimate turn, dipping farther beneath the cover and farther still until Rin caught his breath in expectation.

"Remember to breathe." Makoto whispered, amusement lacing his tone.

Rin reached out to him, but his hands were firmly batted away despite his drowsy protests, "Rest. Allow me." Which Rin recognized for the admission of unease that it was. Some men drowned their fear in drink, some in faith, still others chose to forget in a lovely woman's arms… Makoto had always had an eye for a well-built man himself, and he had never seen a reason to deny himself.

Those touches turned feather-light once more until Rin drifted somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, his body heavy with fatigue and a steadily building ache that Makoto soothed and incited by turns. Rin's breath stuttered out of him when Makoto sank unforgiving teeth into the skin of his hip, the sharp sensation barely enough to make him twitch exhausted as he was. Makoto hummed with contentment, licking the sting away with a thorough tongue.

"You still taste of salt." Rin could hear the smile in his voice, and murmured vaguely in protest when Makoto's attentions suddenly stopped, stillness falling once more.

"Patience."

Rin's eyes dragged themselves open when he heard the sound of the bolted box beneath their bed being opened, the shuffling sound that indicated Makoto was making his way through it by touch alone. Then silence, and a steadily growing anticipation just beneath his skin.

The first touch of cool oil had him hissing softly between his teeth, soon prevented by Makoto's open-mouthed kiss. He gasped into his lover's mouth when he felt a singled finger slip into him easily; with an ease borne of practice Makoto sought out that spot that always made Rin writhe, but tonight he couldn't muster more than a small start, even when Mako pushed another slender finger into him, twisting provocatively.

"God, Mako, I'm _tired_ -"

"Then sleep." Definitely laughter now. Smug bastard, Rin thought fondly, crying out in surprise when Mako pushed into him with no more warning. Loose-limed and pliant with weariness, his body hardly resisted, and he rocked up lazily into Makoto's weight.

It was maddening, the way full consciousness persisted in eluding him despite his best efforts, but eventually Rin gave up the battle for lost, allowing his abused muscles to go entirely limp, shocked when he felt an answering flutter and the sweet beginning of release. Rin slipped easily into sleep, Makoto finding his own in his willing body a moment later.

 

 

 

 

With the captain and the first mate gone to their quarters, it was left to Nitori to neaten the galley, always taking care to ensure he never came within reaching distance of the dark islander. The floor was soaked and slippery, making it a trial simply to cross the room without breaking his neck. Rei stood guard, Nagisa long since departed to find someone to take over his shift and stand guard at Haruka's quarters.

An interesting choice that, though Nitori wasn't sure it was terribly wise. This way they would be granting the man quarters that could be locked from the inside, with no way of securing the door without. But he _would_ be closer to the captain's quarters, and presumably more visible to the crew at large than if he had been consigned to the brig.

"How long do you suppose your captain intends to keep me?" Nitori started at the rich voice, and caught the man's eyes fixed on him when he turned to assist Rei.

"I'm not sure, but-" Rei began, he cut off at a sharp gesture from Nitori. Whatever their captain intended, Nitori was sure informing a prisoner of the length of his stay was not it.

"Then I will be kept in those quarters indefinitely?" Nitori remarked the interested posture, the way he leaned forward and his head tilted as though listening for a meaning just beneath Rei's words.

"Indefinitely is as good a time as any other for your release." Nitori added mildly; let the captive refocus his attention on a source that would not do him half so much good as a well-intentioned Rei.

As expected, Haruka's attention turned back to him immediately. "How long have _you_ been here, surgeon? I can't think _you_ were a volunteer; there is no profit in tending to pirates-"

"I had wondered if your island had any system resembling an economy. A communal approach would be more efficient given your small number."

Haruka's face darkened slightly, vexed at the implied criticism. He really was much too sensitive; the first mate would eat him alive if their captain didn't get to him first. Of course, Nitori was determined to have his say as well.

"Did you assume we sprung up from the ground fully formed? Most of us had homes elsewhere."

Rei broke in, face betraying honest curiosity, "Then where is your vessel? It should have been visible as we approached if it existed at all."

Haruka held his silence, treating them both to an unblinking stare- a vote in favor of silence.

Nitori turned the thought over in his head as he worked, methodically cleaning every wet patch from the floor while Rei stood guard, rapier displayed to advantage at his hip. He was nervous else it would have been tucked neatly into the folds of his coat as per usual. Nitori could hardly fault him, being filled with nervous energy himself.

Rei was right, had there been a vessel of any significant size they should have seen it as they approached the island. But that was assuming the ship was still on the water, if it were dry-docked there was no guarantee they would have seen it and with all the timber in that forest it would have been no trouble to construct a platform provided the crew knew how.

Meaning the _Samenoe_ could well find itself fending off an attack from two directions. That was not a thought he cared to dwell on too long, particularly when one of those ships was presumably an imperial patrol.

Had his likeness been distributed among the captains or had his crimes been pardoned by simple virtue of his disappearance? Another soul lost at sea never to be recovered? Nitori could feel the sand slipping through the hour glass and knew in a way his books could never explain that his good fortune was coming to an end. He would not surrender gracefully though; it was _one_ ship and _one_ crew; now he had one of his own that had every bit as much a need for his services.

Nagisa's footsteps drew him out of his increasingly dark thoughts, the fatigue heard plainly in his voice as he gave his orders. "Take him below and leave him in the cabin. You two can take first watch and I'll send someone to relieve you once we know what the captain intends to do with him. Try not to damage him unless he gets out, then gut him." He finished cheerfully, beaming widely at a glowering Haruka.

It seemed the opening maneuvers had begun.

 

 

 

 

Haruka allowed himself to be led docilely to his new quarters, though it was only through a marked effort of will that he kept from grinding his teeth in frustration. This was about the farthest point from where he wanted to be, and he could swear the crew knew it. Was he so transparent, or had natural deceivers simply recognized one of their own? A question for later, far less important than what he intended to make of his circumstances.

The stocky gent to his side threw the sturdy door open once they arrived, and Haruka hurried into the room before he could be hurled bodily into it. As far as ship's quarters went, it was luxurious. The bed in the corner was small and those sheets looked yellowed from dust and disuse, but there _was_ a bed.

He would take the hammock in the far corner until he could see to cleaning those sheets, provided he remained that long. As the door slammed behind him he took stock of his surroundings; there were no furnishings save the bed and hammock- no desk to explore or end-table, but a single brazier tucked in the corner that glowed with coal. The room was too cramped for much else, but there was a thick rug on the floor that Haruka thought would make a cleaner blanket than anything on that bed-

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door opened again to admit the surgeon, carrying a leftover blanket and what looked like a shirt. "I am sure the captain will see to the rest of your needs tomorrow, but you will need the blankets tonight."

"Thank you." Manners cost him nothing, and perhaps it would impress upon the healer that he was no longer in the rough company he'd grown accustomed to keeping. He thought he caught a faint glimmer of amusement before the surgeon ducked out of the room as quickly as he had arrived, shutting the door firmly behind him.

With two guards posted to the door and heaven knew how many crewmen still milling about the deck at this hour he could not afford to leave the room. That did not mean his work was finished for the night.

Haru prowled the room as the hours stretched on, examining the hinges on the door, the joinings of the floorboards and seeking out even stray splinters beneath the bed. By the time dawn had begun to lighten the sky he had a plan. It was risky, and carried with it the possibility of serious recriminations beyond what he hoped but it was all that had come to him in the past hours despite his best efforts.

The corner of the rug was an adequate shield for his hands as he nimbly rescued a few burning coals from the brazier. It was hardly an honorable war effort, taking advantage of his enemy's hospitality, but they _had_ given him the weapon. It would be rude if he did not oblige them.

Casting the coal across the deck, he hurriedly pulled on the thin covering of the shirt and mussed his hair as though caught sleeping. He dropped to his knees and blew until that small ember roared to crackling life, holding the edge of the rough blanket above it until the fuzz caught the flame and it began to spread.

All that was left was to return to his bed and "Fire! Fire below decks!" He screamed, not entirely counterfeiting the fear in his voice. Fire was a tricksome element, prone to blazing out of control with little provocation.

Then the door banged open, his guards rushing in to douse the flames and encountering thick smoke as the smoldering second coal burned on. Neither one of them could be bothered to give a damn when he pushed past them, sprinting up the stairs to the main deck.

 

 

 

"Gou." It was no trouble to pull the blanket farther over her head, yanking the pillow over her ear and turning her back on the source of that voice.

"Gou, wake up." A thread of annoyance, quickly smothered. Still, that was Sei's captain voice and she ignored it at her peril. She debated a second too long and found the blanket yanked unceremoniously from her form, the pillow tossed aside until she had no choice but to face Sei, beaming with disgusting good humor at this unholy hour.

"You'll want to take your bath before you begin your chores. The water will get cold otherwise."

Refocusing her eyes she could see now that his hair was wet, though drying quickly. A clean towel dangled in his other hand, held tauntingly before her.

"You used the water before me? That is not conduct becoming an officer." She sniffed, snatching the towel from his hand before he could reconsider the generous offer.

"On the contrary, it is captain's privilege. Normally a cabin boy wouldn't see fresh water again until the ship made port. Count yourself fortunate." Didn't he sound every kind of smug today?

"But since you are so insistent the ship ahead must belong to your brother I thought you might like to tidy up. If the wind holds we should catch them up later in the evening."

"Why the devil didn't you say so?" Gou shrieked excitedly, jumping from the cot with no sign of her earlier lethargy.

"I think your mother will not thank me when you return spouting phrases like that. You should keep a watch on your mouth, miss, for your own sake."

An impudent tongue was all the answer he received; hardly unexpected, he had received the same answer every time he criticized her conduct and usually a saucy remark to the effect of him being her _captain_ not her governess. Well enough, it was little concern of his if she could strip the lacquer from wood and curdle milk at a dozen paces, so long as her work was done by the end of each day.

Truth be told, it could be quite comical when she thought she had guessed the meaning of a word and used it entirely the wrong manner. Suzuki had nearly fallen overboard with shock when she had called him a 'fuck-eating lackwit.'

Sei had felt honor-bound to correct her on that score, if only to save her face among the crew.

"Where's the tub?" The unabashed excitement in her voice was enough to bring an answering smile to his face as he gestured out the door.

"In the galley, nearest the hot water. Bar the door behind you." It would do no one any good if some hungry crewman stumbled into the galley and got an eyeful. They knew she was a girl, no need to remind them of the fact and recall to mind the gossip that had spread about the ship in those early days after her discovery.

A quick "Will do!" floated back to him below. At least he had her word for it, and he estimated a solid half hour alone to catch up on his log before she returned.


	10. Tangled Webs to Weave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruka has an ally. Nitori is manipulative. Nagisa means well.
> 
> And Rei knows they will be very lucky if Rin doesn't murder them all come morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now a return to regularly-scheduled updates. 
> 
> But seriously, they should never be more than ten days apart again.

Nagisa tried not to flinch as Nitori gestured toward the galley door, “After you.”

Somehow, after all that had taken place these past few days he had half expected the surgeon to slip a butterfly knife from his sleeve and order him to the infirmary with no further delay.

He was curiously disappointed by Nitori’s failure to comply with his idle fantasy; the man looked downright professional.

“You sure I can’t just head back to crew quarters? I’m warm enough now.”

A lifted brow and knowing smirk were all the answer he received. Damnation.

“Nagisa, please, it’s late and I would just as soon be abed.” Rei’s entire form was steadily crumpling in on itself, shoulders bowing beneath some invisible weight while his eyelids fluttered with the need to shut. Under any other circumstances, Nagisa would have found the overall picture rather charming. As it was, he wondered who would watch his back when he dared to nod off in the dragon’s lair.

With a final suspicious glare for Nitori, Nagisa marched out of the galley as though expecting to meet a firing squad beyond the door. No one was obliging enough to fulfill that fantasy either, more the pity.

“I take it you will complete a final round of the deck before joining us in the infirmary?” Nagisa grit his teeth, snorting softly. Nitori only ever addressed Rei politely; no sharp words or veiled threats. Come to it, even when playing at being their timid healer he had always responded best to Rei, never deliberately evading the navigator as he had so many other crewmen.

“I shouldn’t be more than ten minutes.”

“Begin your final checks now. I will see to Nagisa.”

“I can _hear_ you.” Nagisa snapped, vexed anew at their intimate tones. Rei wouldn’t understand his jealousy, Nagisa knew, but thrice-damned Nitori likely had some idea what he was doing.

“Is there some reason you _shouldn’t_?” Sardonic amusement colored Nitori’s tone. Unable to find a suitably witty reply, Nagisa chose the better part of valor and held his silence.

Rei cleared his throat uncomfortably, drawing a breath as though intending to break the tension with a handful of meaningless words, but Nagisa could hear Nitori’s dismissive gesture. Rei snorted softly, but chose not to contradict the silent command. Technically, a surgeon would rank just below the first mate in terms of authority over the crew, but with that lamentable silent phase… it would take adapting to, this idea that he owed any respect to the man.

Rei’s footsteps echoed with the heavy weight of fatigue as he trotted away from them, eager to be done with his task. If Nagisa hadn’t known better, he would have assumed Rei was the one that had spent the better part of the night on a botched raid.

“What the hell did you do to him?” Nagisa snapped, careful to keep his voice from carrying.

“What the hell am I meant to have done to him?” Nitori queried, all innocence.

“He’s fucking exhausted. Rei is ship’s navigator, not a cabin boy to run your errands, Aiichirou.”

“I will do you the courtesy of attributing that slip to your recent adventures.” Nitori’s tone made it plain he assumed everything that had gone wrong could be laid squarely at Nagisa’s door. _Bastard._

“But you will never address me by my given name again.”

If he had known it was such a sensitive matter, he could have exploited it far sooner. As it was, Nitori’s strange bouts of insanity tempered the desire to taunt him.

“Fine.” Nagisa snapped,turning to march toward the infirmary. Was it his imagination or were the shadows themselves cowering away from that door? Doubtless Nitori had struck some sort of infernal bargain to protect his domain.

It was a minute longer before he realized Nitori hadn’t accompanied him; even he couldn’t move so softly as to make no sound at all.

“Nitori?” Nagisa winced at his quailing voice, curiously muffled even now. Son of a bitch. He hadn’t even gone half a dozen paces and already the surgeon had duped him. “See to Nagisa” indeed.

In the next moment, budding nervousness was replaced with relief. If Nitori had not accompanied him, it would give him a few moments to inspect the infirmary and determine which corner he would claim for his own tonight. Preferably someplace far from the door where he could keep his back to the wall. He crossed the final few feet to the entryway, hesitated only a moment before pushing in, still bracing for a veritable cabinet of horrors though he had seen the unnatural organization of the place only hours ago.

No corpses had appeared during his absence; the room looked as neat and orderly as it had in the light of the afternoon.

Now that he no longer had an apology to tender or a healer to contend with, he was free to inspect the room on his own. The infirmary said far more about Nitori than his gray surgeon’s gown ever had, it betrayed far more than Nitori would ever willingly tell him. Anything he could learn here might well be of use later when Nitori lost his mind, as he was sure to do.

Nagisa knew he didn’t have Makoto’s gift for observation, neither Rei’s particular talent for convincing men to tell him far more than they intended, but Nitori couldn’t possibly be any more of a mystery than he was now. It would be worth all his efforts if he could glean even one fact he wasn’t meant to know.

The cupboard in the far corner seemed the most promising place to begin- obviously it had once been intended as a drinking cabinet, dull stained glass set into wood that appeared recently polished, but cracked as though it had been neglected for years prior. The captain’s cabin held its twin, Nagisa knew, and wondered at what deal Rin had struck when they had first brought the surgeon aboard that he should have the next best appointed quarters on ship. Rather a sumptuous prison for such an unassuming creature.

Nagisa poked at it cautiously, warily using the tip of a blanket to remove whatever prints his fingers left. The wood was not warped, but did not open at his gentle prying. Locked, then. Another surprise, that Nitori should be permitted a place to keep his private affairs. Nagisa squinted through the glass, cursing the age that had made it run like liquid to distort the image inside; doubtless the design was all the rage shoreside, but it did make investigating damned difficult. Rei would probably know how to trick the lock open; he’d confessed to a few hours whiled away among his father’s more risque papers when a boy.

Rei’s loyalty was still very much his, no matter Nitori’s gentle words.

As he paced away from the cabinet the scent of polish faded, replaced by something tantalizingly floral. Where the hell had Nitori found flowers this far out to sea? Had he brought them back from shore or did their surgeon have an admirer aboard ship? Nagisa quickly discarded the idea; there was an air of refinement that still cling to Nitori despite his time among the crew; he wouldn’t share his bed with a salt-washed sailor if his life depended upon it. Though if that kiss earlier had been anything to go by, he might well make an exception if Nagisa pushed much harder.

Feeling a blush rising, Nagisa pushed the thought away viciously. Sweet God, with the beds right there and a lock on the door-

And Rei lying in the next bed over, keeping watch. Hell, Nagisa hadn’t thought there was much left that could bring the blood to his face, but that thought had the very tips of his ears scorching with a combination of lust and shame.

He ghosted his fingers over the finish on the small desk Nitori used for all purposes, ink-stained, but not recently. Their surgeon was as fastidious as any house-wife. Moreso perhaps. Seeing as he had no choice but to spend his night in this room, Nagisa found he was grateful for it.

Ah. The flowers were there, dried out and brittle but still giving off their pervasive aroma. The scent would not normally have been to Nagisa’s taste, but coupled with his image of Nitori- yes, the scent was fitting.

He had just turned his attention to the bed farthest from the door, contemplating its size and idly wondering if two men might comfortably share the space when the door opened to admit none other than the object of his thoughts.

“I take it you have satisfied your curiosity?” Nitori didn’t so much as pause in stripping the sheet from a bed, kneeling to root under it for a small, battered chest. Nagisa watched with interest as he pulled out a cotton shirt before sliding it brusquely back into place.

“Tch. Not much to you that I want to know, healer. Where are you going with those?”

“The islander is as much at risk as yourself. Perhaps more so, should he catch a chill and die on my watch I think it would go poorly for me.”

“I ordered the brazier lit before I returned.” Why he had volunteered the information so willingly, Nagisa couldn’t be certain; he silenced the voice that whispered he wanted the surgeon’s gratitude, or approval even. The same one that suggested he might be a little jealous of the easy camaraderie between ship’s navigator and surgeon.

“Did you?” Relief colored Nitori’s tone, a dash of amusement lifting his lips into an uncomfortable smile. Dammit. Did the man have to see through him every time.

“Wasn’t for you, Rin would weigh me down and throw me overboard if he thought I’d cost him a prisoner.”

“I imagine he would.” Thoughtful now; Nagisa hated that tone. “In any case; these must be delivered. You will take the bed to the far wall.”

Meaning he must not take the bed at the far wall under any circumstances. Unless Nitori knew he intended to be defiant and so thought to ensure that outcome. Or was he expecting Nagisa to think of that and therefore take the bed at the far wall? Perhaps he should ask Rei, or was he being maneuvered into position, slowly being taught to take orders from someone that had been his captive mere days ago.

Nagisa knew there was a very good reason he was not counted a strategist. Better to put a pistol in his hands and aim him in the right direction than ask him which way it was best to shoot. He’d take the bed and be damned to whatever schemes Nitori thought he was weaving.

Nitori had ducked out of the infirmary again before he had a chance to say as much. Taking advantage of the bright moonlight still filtering through the door, Nagisa scrambled for the wax candle embedded on table’s edge, scrabbling the desk until he found tinder dry enough to light. Candles were precious, especially now when it had been so long since they had put in for supplied, but Nagisa wasn’t about to be left alone in the darkness.

 

* * *

 

 

Rei hadn’t known how tired he was until Nagisa had set off for the infirmary at last, all his carefully-concealed worry at last allowed free reign. Nagisa took it poorly when he fretted; he had always counted it a poor reflection upon his abilities. For his part, Rei knew exactly how fast a routine mission could fall to pieces; Nagisa was a better shot than he had ever been, and Rin was not near so incompetent as some of the officers with bought and paid for commissions Rei had served with, but much as Makoto might like to protest, humans were unpredictable predators at best.

In fact, Nanase Haruka might well have been a blind spot for Makoto as well; no one had predicted his attack against the ship.

Rei’s feet turned at last toward the hold, satisfied that the deck was free and clear. He couldn’t say for certain how long Haruka and his crew had been at work, but doubtless the ship had taken some damage. With the dearth of supplies they were facing now, Rei devoutly hoped it was nothing too serious.

 

 

 

Nitori very deliberately did _not_ rush across the deck as fast as his legs could carry him. It would be unseemly if any member of the crew caught sight of the gleeful skip that might well have betrayed itself in his step.

In his blatant attempt to predict Nitori’s orders, Nagisa had quite neatly solved the very dilemma that had begun to play upon his mind the very moment the crewmembers had escorted Haruka from the galley.

However was he supposed to get the troublesome islander off the ship?

The easiest method would be to aid in his escape, but that was mutiny and punishable by death. Not one of the crew would lose a moment’s sleep over his sudden demise, Nitori was sure. Not until a suitably gruesome plague took the ship in its clutches. Rin was wise enough to know he had been fortunate in finding Nitori- another surgeon might well have deliberately fouled his wounds or spread sickness. Another might have made multiple bids for freedom.

That wouldn’t stop him from putting an abrupt end to Nitori’s activities if he realized his ship’s surgeon was working against him. The best he could hope for then was a chance to make it back to land and hope the locals hadn’t taken his actions to heart. Nitori would not have laid coin on that outcome, even had he been a man prone to gambling.

Nagisa, though… in his eagerness to please he had inadvertently given their prisoner a sure means of escape if he was clever and bold enough to take it. Nitori had no doubt he was reckless enough at least; he was beginning to think it might even be catching. An interesting thought, that emotions and drives might be so prone to spreading as illness- if he had the proper tools to hand and even a vague idea of how to prove it, doubtless it would have made an interesting pamphlet.

As it was, he would have to content himself with pure theory until such time as the materials became available once more.

Which wasn’t going to happen if he ended up being taken aboard the naval vessel because of Rin and Makoto’s stubborn desire for revenge against Haruka.

With the ship in this sorry state, pursued by a vessel in exceptional trim and the potential for a third entering the fray, it was better to simply give the islanders their leader and hope they were too distracted to pursue his erstwhile captors. It was their best chance at continued freedom, and Nitori was determined to take it, captain’s orders be damned.

He glided past the guards at Haruka’s door, not bothering to ask their leave or even so much as knock before he pushed his way in.

Haruka’s guilty leap at Nitori’s entry confirmed his determination to slip away . It wouldn’t take him long to settle on the brazier as his only viable option; the guards outside had been explicitly instructed to gut him if he emerged. The only solution would be to ensure they were otherwise occupied, and how better than to once again damage the ship? Vengeance and practicality neatly combined into one pleasing package.

“I am sure the captain will see to the rest of your needs tomorrow, but you will need the blankets tonight.” He proffered the shirt and blanket, watching Haruka’s expression for some hint of what he might make of this development. Disappointingly, he did not make the obvious connection between cloth and flame. Not immediately at least.

Nitori could see the moment Haruka decided to attempt making him an ally. It seemed the man was expecting a captivity of no little duration, and while Nitori could respect his foresight, he could not help but think the man must be blind.

“Thank you.”

Nitori only nodded, turning back to the door before Haruka could say more. He liked being manipulated even less than he liked being coerced, and if this man thought to play on his sympathy, he would find it was a quality all of his captors were sorely lacking in.

He emerged from the makeshift prison feeling immeasurably lighter, an indefinable weight lifted from his shoulders. If the guards noticed the pleased smile hovering about his lips, neither dared to breathe a word of it.

 

* * *

 

 

 

_“Shit."_ Rei clamped his lips shut over the stream of profanity that threatened to follow. A gentleman was never supposed to so thoroughly lose his temper that he could not govern his own words. Of course, gentlemen weren’t supposed to make themselves invaluable members of a pirate crew either, and they certainly were not supposed to seduce the weapons-master of said ship.

By contrast, a few gutter words seemed downright innocent.

“Bloody-minded hackums. What the hell am I meant to do with you?”

In a ship this size, the small breach he eyed wouldn’t normally be a concern; a round with the bilge pumps would set all aright and they could be on their merry way with a fancy bit of carpentry and some tar.

With the vessel limping along as it already was, and no supplies to hand this minor inconvenience was set to become a disaster.

And damn it all to hell, but it had happened on his watch. The impudence rankled. Always, the Samenoe had been safe in his keeping, and now the captain left the deck for a matter of a few hours and suddenly the whole ship was ready to fall to pieces at the first sign of rough weather. If this luck continued, they would have no choice but to surrender to the Imperial navy and plead clemency.

He had served under Rin long enough to know that surrender was never an acceptable strategy as far as the captain was concerned.

Still, for the time they had spent near the ship’s hull, the damage could have been far worse. Unless-

“Mother of-” Rei turned and bolted from the hold, his long legs taking the stairs two and three at a time as he scrambled once more for the deck, nearly bowling over Nitori in his haste to make for the tiller.

The surgeon’s graceful hands found his coat when he tried to slip by, clamping down with surprising force so that Rei would have had no choice but to throw him to the deck if he wanted to continue unchecked. He froze, surprised at the frustrated growl that spilled from his mouth. Sweet heaven, he needed sleep; he was becoming little more than an animal.

“Unless all the demons of hell are chasing you, I think there is no need for such haste.”

“The tiller. The fucking tiller. He’s cut our lines; if we can’t steer this ship, then we’re going to flounder. The damned navy might as well have caught us.”

Nitori’s grip tightened to the point of pain, eyes widening with panic for a split second before he squeezed them shut determinedly, opening them again when his fearful expression had been replaced with one of determination.

“Is there any way to repair it?”

“I don’t know. I have to inspect the damage; if we had a dry-dock or even a little more time-”

“We don’t, though.”

“I have to wake the captain.”

“He will be furious, and far more likely to kill his captive than keep him.”

“Good. He can come along to hell with the rest of us.”

“You are not thinking. He mentioned that island is not their permanent home. Let us suppose it is a seasonal settlement-”

“I need to inspect those lines.” Rei pulled away with a practiced motion, one learned well after he had used it dozens of times against Nagisa. Nitori followed, still speaking despite Rei’s seeming inattention.

“That would indicate a need for another ship. One we could scavenge for supplies. If the islanders are feeling well-disposed toward us, it will make it easier-”

“To cannibalize their only way home? It would never work, even had we not taken Haruka captive.”

“If we return him-”

“Against Rin’s orders? Mutiny. You _are_ mad.”

“I am the sanest man here.”

Rei yanked at the tiller, noting the lack of any resistance or response from the ship. “As I thought. He cut the rudder lines and crippled the ship. If we could beach her for a few hours, this would be trifling; as it is now, I would call it impossible. There's a leak in the cargo hold that will need work as well, I need to wake the captain. His orders did not cover this.”

“Leave him sleep. Do you think he can weave apart the severed ends with a few barked orders?”

“No, but Rin is captain. This is his ship, and if he thought I were keeping anything from him-”

Rei spun in the direction of the captain’s cabin, trying not to let his hesitance show.

“Rei, better to keep a man on watch and let the current carry us until morning. You and I will see if any there are any other materials to hand we might use.”

He knew the laughter rising in his throat verged upon the hysterical, but Rei didn’t bother to smother it. All of this, on his watch.

“Would it not be better to confront the captain with a problem solved than yet another worry to disturb his rest?”

It was wrong. It was all wrong and Rei knew it, but somehow he let the healer’s soft voice continue with its insinuations, until at last he seemed to make sense, and if his mind still whispered a warning, it was softer still than Nitori’s words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up on "A Comprehensive List of Things I Never Thought I Would Research:" How to repair a rudder line in pre-twentieth, post fifteenth century ships. They make books for that. With pictures.
> 
> Unfortunately, that is all in the next chapter.
> 
> Fortunately, the next chapter will be up tomorrow night along with all the edits for previous chapters. :P
> 
> The chapter count has been appropriately updated, and my apologies for all the buildup. Rest assured it will pay off in the end.


	11. Light my Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin has a long-overdue epiphany, pity it might have come too late.
> 
> Makoto has a conversation with Haruka that he hopes will prove illuminating for both of them.

Rin started awake at the frantic cries of "Fire", already out of the bed and half-dressed before he should rightfully have been awake. Makoto managed one better, slipping out the door as Rin's hand sought and found his weapon.

"Fire within or without?" The answer was plain as soon as he stepped out the door of his cabin; Haruka was loose, and smoke was billowing out of Makoto's quarters in alarming quantities.

_Son of a Bitch._ "Mako, tell Nagisa he'd better catch that fucker before I do. "

"Yessir." Makoto was up the stairs and pelting across the deck before Rin could say more, not that there was much else for a first-mate to do. Not much for a captain either except to run back to his quarters and haul every available blanket out to the frantic erstwhile guards.

"You, soak this in water. You, help me beat this out and remember our freedom depends on it." Rin couldn't see their expressions, but he could feel the tension ratchet up another notch. Was he the only one that realized Seijuro was breathing down their necks? Another setback like this and they might as well toss themselves into the fire for tinder. The first man he had addressed stumbled clumsily up the stairs, feet pounding on the wood until Rin could no longer hear it. Thankfully the second was marginally more graceful, or at least as much as he needed to be.

Between the two of them they had reduced the already pitiful fire to a few merry embers by the time soaked rags arrived. Rin left the two to clean up after their foolishness; he could address their perilous lack of attention once he was sure his captive was secure.

Somehow he had expected the main deck to be teeming with life after the almost-crisis, but those few men that had bothered to pull themselves out of their hammocks were only standing around trying in vain to appear industrious. Discipline had lapsed in the good months; now that hard times had come about again it was plain he would have to revert to his old ways. No time like the presence.

"Where the hell are your crewmates?" Silence greeted him, followed by a babble of tongues that might as well have been Greek for all he could make of it.

Rin gestured to the man nearest him, flicking his head carelessly toward the entrance to crew-quarters. "Tell everyone still below decks we don't have enough rations for slackers; they can do without for a couple days." An almost palpable sigh of relief echoed through the few present, but Rin didn't give them a chance to bask in their escape for more than a few seconds. "I feel a pressing need for an exact inventory of our supplies. Divvy yourselves up and see to it. I want to know precisely how many herring we have to a crate. Mako will check your individual counts later, if they are not correct you can make up the difference out of your own rations."

Not as harsh as he could have made it, but the crew was already on edge and there was every chance he would be depending on their cooperation in the near future. They sullenly dispersed, casting each other glances that hinted at words they dare not speak. So long as those thoughts didn't cross their lips Rin knew he could still hold the ship without bloodshed.

"Nagisa! Rei!" There was no answer, but he had expected as much. Where could Haruka have hidden aboard ship? Could he have tossed himself overboard as soon as he made his escape? Unlikely. The current was treacherous this far from shore, and he had to know his odds of escape were greater if the Imperial navy overtook the ship, something that would become far more likely if he allowed a saboteur free-reign on the _Samenoe_. He didn't like how much closer that silhouette had come even in the time since he had bedded down.

"Captain!" Makoto's aborted shout led him where he needed to be, right back down to the cargo bay where Rei and Nitori were huddled above a veritable mess of rope and twine. Rei had wound the fibers about his hands and Nitori was patiently braiding it into something that resembled a- Oh. Oh no.

"The tiller line. Slashed. Rei has been working at it-"

"How long?" Rin growled.

"Long enough." Mako grimaced sympathetically, clambering to his feet. "Nagisa has Haruka in custody. He's hogtied on a bed in sickbay."

"There's one problem dealt with. Assuming there are no errant flames in sickbay. I want an account of what happened tonight. Rei, how much longer on this?"

"Half hour maybe sir."

"It's been hours then."

"Almost three."

"And you never once thought of informing me?"

"That was my decision." Nitori cut in, his graceful hands still patiently weaving the material without a break in concentration. "I overruled Rei's objections."

It wasn't like him to be self-sacrificing. For months after his capture, Nitori had ensured he was seldom the man taking punishments that should rightfully have been his. It had become something of a joke among the crew to guess at what ploy he might use next, and now he was falling willingly on the proverbial sword to protect a man that had been complicit in his capture. Perhaps they were bonding over their shared history as honored prisoners.

"Regardless of who made the decision, you're both paying for it equally. When you're finished here I expect a report of events as you understand them; I will also inform you of your penance then."

Rin thought he could see a flicker of surprise in Nitori's eyes, and Rei's hands paused in their rhythmic swaying for all of a second before their work began again. Rei cleared his throat gently, glancing up to catch Rin's eye before he could leave.

"Something else, there's a growing leak in the cargo hold. If we had pitch I could repair it, but as is the bilge pumps are working overtime. We're going to start taking on water soon- not enough to be a threat in the near future but…"

But with the way everything else was unfolding, it was probably only a matter of time before that too became a catastrophe.

"Makoto, walk with me." Rin swept out of the hold, Mako taking up his usual position at his side. Rin tried not to see the troubled lines on his brow or the frown pulling at his lips; If Mako was showing visible emotion then they were in dire straits indeed.

"It's a matter of time now 'til the navy catches us up. Hours, perhaps. Do we make a run for shore or let them have it?"

"Either way they are taking it, but I always assumed it would be a cold day in hell before you surrendered this vessel. You always said another captain could walk the decks once he threw your rotting carcass overboard." Betrayal painted every word; Rin was not the first sailor that had ever offered Mako a place aboard his ship, but he was the only one with an offer that had actually tempted the man. Half of that had been his sheer devotion to the ship itself, a loyalty Makoto had been convinced would extend to the crew. He wasn't wrong.

"You mistake me. I'm not suggesting we abandon ship, I'm just saying that the _Samenoe_ needs repairs and we both know a navy scouting vessel will have its fair share of supplies. Why not allow the emperor's finest to do our work for us, and when it's done we jump ship and sail off?"

"Seijuro will leave her here; he's hardly going to bother with a ship falling apart at the seams."

"She's taken a battering lately, but it's nothing a little time in a proper dock won't fix. She was once the best of her kind; Seijuro has to know that."

"He'd sooner burn her in the water than risk letting corsairs escape. You don't even have a plan for that yet, do you?"

"No, but I _do_ know if he catches up and we don't surrender we're dead. And if we're dead then there is no chance of escape. Alive, our odds are considerably improved."

"How do you figure?" Mako murmured dryly.

"Two former imperial officers, one trigger happy weaponsmaster, a crazed surgeon with nothing to lose and a captain with everything to gain? Give us a seaworthy ship and we could rule the world."

Makoto paused, starting with surprise when he realized their walk had brought them to the door of the infirmary. His hand drifted out to rest against the wood, drawing comfort from its solidity. When he spoke his voice was hushed, but no less accusing. "You said that to me once before and I threw away everything I valued to follow you for that promise. Now we are drifting through hostile waters with imperial ships in our wake and the surety that our opportunities are crumpling beneath our feet."

"There isn't a ship on this ocean that doesn't know the color of our sails; there isn't a single naval vessel that doesn't have our likenesses pinned in its captain's stateroom. Besides, you said yourself that you sacrificed everything else, what more do you stand to lose? It's a madman's plan, but it's something to bear in mind if we run out of other options."

He rested a supporting hand against Makoto's shoulder and another over the door, "Personally, I'm hoping that a few hours work on the islander might yield up another idea. If he's not a native then he must know the waters which means he'll know how to navigate the currents, what safe-harbors we can find… but I will leave that in _your_ capable hands. My crew has forgotten they have a captain. I need to make my presence felt."

Makoto nodded slowly, unclenching his jaw with a visible effort. "I will not surrender this ship, not on a slim chance that we could commandeer her again. I will take whatever we need from the islander."

Rin nodded his satisfaction, "I look forward to hearing what you come up with."

 

* * *

 

Not ten minutes bound and his shoulders already ached mercilessly. Haruka shifted to restore blood flow to his arms, smiling grimly when the blond- Nagisa- began to circle him warily again. It had been a miscalculation trying to enter the infirmary; after the surgeon had brought him blankets, Haru thought his best odds had rested there. Who better to assist him than another temporary captive?

Only Nagisa had been in the bed against the far wall and he had roused as soon as the door opened. In no time at all Haruka had found himself looking down the barrel of one of those hated pistols. It wouldn't have happened if he'd tossed the damn things into the water when he had the chance, but he supposed he had the surgeon to thank for that too.

"Is your gunpowder not waterlogged?"

"If you slip your ropes we'll find out soon enough, won't we?" Nagisa settled on the edge of the bed, laying his pistol to rest across his knees.

"If you cut me loose, I could jump."

"Should've thought of that before you came after Nitori. He wouldn't have helped you; I think you're lucky you found me instead."

Haru had his own opinion on that score, but he wasn't about to betray the one man aboard ship that might listen to reason.

"Mako will be back soon. He's going to make you pay."

Tachibana Makoto, first mate; otherwise known as the man that had come charging in while Haru was still facing down that loaded pistol and nearly spooking Nagisa into shooting. Haruka already hated him on principal; only Rin could possibly challenge him in that arena.

As though a demon in hell had heard his thoughts, the door opened gradually to reveal none other than his foe, perfectly nonchalant, entirely unfazed by the news that his ship was critically damaged. Haruka wondered if he would be so calm once he was turned over to an imperial interrogator. He hadn't met the man yet that could face that equably.

"Nagisa, Rin has something to discuss with you. He's either in the hold or in his cabin. Find him."

Haruka delighted in his captor's nervous swallow, the nigh imperceptible tremor in his fingertips that hinted he was not so reckless as he liked to pretend. Still, he didn't hesitate to leave, even tipping a wink when he was sure Haru would see it. That was hardly comforting.

"Will wonders never cease? I thought the boy had no sense of self-preservation to speak of." Makoto's tone was disconcertingly friendly, offering confidences and commiseration in equal measure. Haruka thought he recognized the gambit for what it was and offered not a word of agreement. Makoto only smiled, if that sly expression could rightly be called a smile; he sat on the edge that Nagisa had just left, slender fingers reaching out to play through Haru's hair until he couldn't resist the impulse to flinch.

Makoto yanked his head back roughly, forcing Haru to look him full in the face regardless of the pull in his tendons. "We found your attempt at sabotage. Repairs are underway even now, but as intended your escapades have cost us precious time. The _Samezuka_ is gaining, and I am not the only crewman with personal reasons for wishing to evade it."

"Perhaps you should have considered that before making landfall." Haruka growled, willing his body to relax into the uncomfortable position.

"Alas for lost opportunity; I cannot undo the past."

"Be sure to tell me how the brig treats you. I hear they are hanging pirates in port-towns now."

"Do you? How?"

Haruka swallowed his words, comprehending Mako's plan with no more than those words. He spat viciously, pleased when saliva spattered against Makoto's skin; the man would be no more inclined to treat him kindly, but he had hardly been expecting fair treatment to begin with and it sounded like he would soon be safe aboard a legitimate vessel anyway.

Makoto released his hold, his hand drifted back to rub mock comforting circles between Haru's shoulder blades. "It is a small thing I ask; I only want to know how you received word of the goings-on around you. Did you not tell me yourself you had a vessel dry-docked nearby?"

"I lied."

"Of course, but if you hadn't where could you possibly keep it? The mechanics required for such a feat and the shallow water near shore, it couldn't be easy."

"If you know I will not answer, why do you ask?" He couldn't help but flinch when Mako's hand drifted down his spine, hesitating at the small of his back for a second too long before sweeping up to his neck and forcing his head down uncomfortably into the blanket. By the time he released his grip, Haru was panting for air, glaring murder at his captor.

"I only want to be fair. These are questions I intend to ask you once I am through here; you should have time to consider your answer."

"I don't understand."

His unspoken question went unanswered while Makoto's fingers drifted over the dips and hollows of his throat. "Here, we can exchange information. I will teach you something of yourself and perhaps then you won't be so reluctant to confide in me."

Both hands drifted down the sore muscles of his back, pressing in and circling in a manner that would have been soothing but for the man behind him.

"Do you know why your skin is still twitching?" Makoto snorted when Haru jerked violently at the unexpected voice, continuing the stimulation without pause. "You don't need to answer. I can tell you. I'm sure our surgeon could explain it far better than I, but ask any man that has lived without the benefit of law and he will tell you that Humans are natural predators. Even our bodies are constructed that way; run your tongue along your teeth if you do not believe me, scratch your nails along a hard surface."

Haruka shut his eyes, trying in vain to ignore Makoto's words. "We make very poor prey. Everything about a man is designed for offense, for attacking and rending and pursuit. We are not built to be defensible; our bodies are covered in vulnerabilities that are easily exploited." Haru struggled to breath when a warm palm clamped too tightly about his throat.

"Your throat is obvious, I think, but very few take the time to consider the back for more than the obvious reasons."

"And what would those be?"

Makoto smiled as he answered; Haruka was left with the impression that he had just lost a key struggle in the battle between them. "Low visibility. Peripheral vision is poor in this area, see how your eyes strain to watch me? It will give you a headache soon. Can you guess any other reason?"

Haruka clenched his teeth, biting back the urge to speak. Silence was the only response that guaranteed him safety.

Makoto pressed roughly into the curve of his back, moving slightly to the right. "Your kidneys are right here, and entirely unprotected. If I struck you, I could easily kill you. It's not a pleasant way to die, I once watched a man piss blood for days before death took him."

"And where would you have witnessed something like that?" He had to know something of who he was dealing with, even if he first had to surrender ground to secure it.

"I thought you had guessed it by now, but remember that this isn't the time for questions. Once I have finished speaking, you may." Haruka flailed when Mako's hand dipped lower than before, pressing softly on the protrusion of bone just above his ass. "This bone here has always been something of a mystery. Our surgeon couldn't tell you its purpose, but I know my colleagues always said it causes excruciating pain when fractured. It's very slow to heal."

Fingers danced up his vertebra, counting them mutely, "One of the crew even fractured his spine last winter. We didn't have a surgeon then, but I don't suppose it mattered. He couldn't get a breath after his rib cut into his lung. Rin thought it was kinder to cut his throat."

"If you are trying to convince me that your crew are savages, you are succeeding admirably."

Mako ignored him, still talking as though lost in his memories, "Rin said it was a mercy, but I always thought he might have rushed a bit. Rin doesn't like to keep useless things around for long, and if you cannot contribute to the wellbeing of this ship then you are a burden."

The implication was obvious, but Haruka didn't have long to think on it before Mako pressed viciously into the hollow of his throat once more, only releasing him once spots had begun to dance in his vision. "Are you still with me?"

"Yes." Haruka hissed. Makoto would not have long to enjoy the navy's hospitality. The moment he was free he would personally ensure this man was fathoms deep on the path to hell.

"Good. Can you hazard a guess of who I might be?"

"Besides a walking corpse?"

"Every man is that. It is how we occupy our time until death comes that determines our measure."

"I'm sure you're all too ready to tell me."

"If you will. Who I am, Nanase Haruka, is the former director of intelligence for the imperial navy. You might have heard of me."

With a twist of watery fear and startling fury in his gut, Haruka realized that he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this one is late, and short. I'm sorry to say I lost my hard-drive, and it rather knocked the wind from my proverbial sails. But my notes are up and running again so it shouldn't be this long of a delay in the future. :)
> 
>  
> 
> Caerul: You might've rescued the other fic, darling, but I was going to use this chapter title someday. It was going to happen.


	12. Hostile Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako considers the nature of unprofessional behavior, Rin gets his groove back and Nagisa has a confession to make.
> 
>  
> 
> Next up:
> 
> Haruka is confronted by that eternal question: Which of the two evils is his favorite?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Note:
> 
> The tags have been updated, and two of them will be coming into effect next chapter. Also, that dubcon warning is coming into effect near the end of this one and continuing through the new chapter.
> 
>  _Also_ Also, I just looked at the kudos count on this and I'm pretty sure this was my actual face: O.o 
> 
> I'm glad so many seem to be enjoying and thanks to everyone that has managed to stick around despite the delays. ^.^ We're nearing the home stretch!

Makoto shifted languorously, allowing the faintest gasp of breath to escape him; he knew the effect it had on Rin, the slight widening of his eyes, the answering sigh, muscles tensing in an effort to delay the inevitable. Of all his clients, Mako liked this one best; he focused on his partner in much the same way he did his work, trusting his own needs would be met in turn. Rin was stubborn to the point of virtue, normally straight-laced despite his family's average predilections, and ever willing to accept direction.

With that thought in mind- "Harder." He arched into Rin's near-violent thrust, basking in the savagery of it rather than flinching. The man's demons must be riding him hard today, but Mako was not inclined to complain if this was the result.

He turned his head to catch Rin's wrist, braced on the bed beside him, fingers curling into the sheets for leverage; Rin didn't so much as wince when he bit down, licking along tendons strained with effort.

"Dammit." Rin froze in place, taking a few precious seconds to gather his rapidly scattering discipline. Just now that wasn't much to Mako's taste; it was always a thrill to push this one past his mortal limits- the payoff was without fail greater than the sacrifice.

Twining his legs about Rin's own, he arched, laughing between his labored breaths. Another treat he wasn't often afforded, the ability to treat this as a game rather than the extremely particular hobbies most of his patrons favored. It was his own fault, really, showing off his skills in such questionable directions. Not that he would be averse to teaching Rin how to safely indulge those same hobbies; there were times he wanted nothing so much as to tangle his fingers in that impossibly red hair and-

His breathing stuttered when the clever bastard zeroed in on the soft skin just beneath his ear, whispering praise and pleas that Mako could not ignore. He had been trained far too well to keep his ears pricked in intimate moments, and it was a habit that had not deserted him even now.

He fisted a rough hand in Rin's hair, twisting until he had no choice but to roll. Mako pinned him there despite his breathless curses and threats, taking up a rhythm meant to drive Rin past any sense. Matsuoka's tastes were simple and honest, but Mako had never quite given up his hope that he might one day push the man far enough that he wouldn't care any longer how he achieved his release. He had already resolved this would be the night he taught Rin to be shameless in his pleasure, utterly lewd in that way Mako knew he had it in him to be.

His reactions were too honest, technique too unschooled for him to have much experience besides what his season in the red-light district had taught him, but Mako knew a kindred spirit by sight. If he could surrender his personal qualms long enough, Mako had no doubt Rin would betray a liking for the exotic. And he would be pleased to provide all the tutelage needed.

Rin's hands clamped about his waist, forcing him to slow his movements, pushing him back until Mako rested against Rin's knees, using their support for leverage.

"Fuck. I'm going to come-"

"Promises." Mako bit out, twisting down, running his fingers over Rin's twitching skin. A high-pitched sob was his only warning, Rin's toes curling into the sheets in one last defiant effort- in vain. Mako sighed at the flood of warmth, Rin still fighting to maintain this final connection between them. Slowly he pulled away, savoring Rin's panting breaths, that furrow between his brow that was both satisfaction and disappointment mingled in equal measure.

His eyes flicked open almost immediately as his palm drifted down Makoto's front, keeping already frayed nerves on edge. "Sorry. Let me make it up to you."

Damn, but the man was persistent. Surrender was far too tempting a prospect, but only on his own terms. "I assure you, you will. For the moment, however…" Makoto leaned in, pressing his forehead to Rin's own, feeling hot breath against his lips and seeing the briefest flicker of interest in eyes he knew as well as his own reflection. "I find I'm rather thirsty."

Rin sputtered incredulously and Mako didn't bother hiding his grin, seeing the tinge of color in his cheeks. Denying him was one of life's small pleasures, just another assurance Rin would demand more of him later. He was prepared to offer far more than the man could think to ask.

But only once Rin had confided his troubles.

It had become the pattern between them now; Rin would fall on him as soon as the door was decently closed, provided the day's stresses hadn't already forced him past any consideration for propriety. On those days, Mako was just as likely to find himself ravished in the first convenient corner, not that he was opposed to it, in fact Rin's embarrassment was more than adequate incentive for encouraging those little outbursts.

Once their initial hectic coupling was through, Rin would begin to speak of small matters: the small oddities he had observed along the way, snippets of gossip half-heard. When drink, fatigue and comfort had finally taken their hold the subject often turned to himself, or more accurately, the goings on in his household. Old habits were not swift to leave him, Makoto found himself noting down much of what Rin told him in case he should ever have need of it; who was sharing whose bed, which way the merchanting families were intending to stack their interests in the coming seasons.

Increasingly Rin had begun to criticize his family's investments, business practices, even the blatant nepotism that had for so long ensured its stranglehold on some of the minor shipping lanes off the Southern coast.

All told, it was not an uncommon pastime for merchants' sons, but Rin more often than not had insights Mako would not have expected of one of the pampered rich. No question but that he was an ambitious one; the Matsuoka clan's interests would prosper under his guidance, assuming he was ever given the reins.

"We're set to add a new ship to our roster. The _Samenoe_. She's beautiful, no expense spared."

As per usual, Rin cut right to the heart of the matter without preamble. Subtlety was not his strength, but if bloody-minded determination were the currency used in the markets, Rin's pockets would ever run deep. With any luck he would take a wife that knew her business in the drawing room: bargains and secrets and which hands to shake; Makoto did not fool himself he could always be the one to hold Rin's ear, though he had no doubt they would have made a stunningly effective partnership in another life.

The sister wouldn't do. She was a child yet, and by all accounts her temperament was already the match to Rin's. No, the family would do far better to marry her to another minor clan as soon as she came of age. Doubtless she would take to the match her own kind of loyalty, something the Matsuoka clan had in short supply since the death of its patriarch so many years ago. It was a blow Mako doubted they would ever fully recoup from.

"And that's precisely the trouble. We're expanding with too little capital, stretching our resources thin before we have even consolidated our own holdings already. What use is a ship without cargo, or cargo without a market? We need to bring the family name back to its former prominence before we can afford these risks."

Mako hummed noncommittally, exerting every shred of his self-control to keep from turning back to pin Rin against the pillows once again. He was strung taut still, though that tended to be his normal state in this man's company.

He needed to put distance between them or risk blowing all his carefully laid plans to hell.

 

 

 

Rin watched Makoto rise from bed, the smooth interplay of muscle beneath tanned skin holding his gaze. He couldn't help but marvel at how casual and unaffected Mako's movements were: graceful without effort, dangerously practiced and superbly controlled.

He could easily understand how this man had become the singular most sought-after whore in the district. What he couldn't understand was why.

Mako turned to catch his gaze, lifting the bottle of wine he saved for such occasions. "May I pour you a drink?"

"Yes." Rin didn't smile this time, all his false warmth had deserted him the minute passion fled. He was left with a hollow core of fear in his gut. What if Makoto wasn't tempted by his offer? What if he decided it was worth more to sell the information?

Either way, Mako poured the mulled wine quickly and glided smoothly back into the bed, kneeling on the edge with a goblet outstretched in mute offering. He hadn't broken eye contact with Rin once, and there was a smile hovering about his lips now that suggested he knew what was coming. Rin couldn't be sure how much of it was mummery and how much truth; there had been a time Makoto had been accounted one of the greatest intelligence-gatherers the imperial navy had ever employed.

Of course, none of his clients would know that. To them, Mako was no more than a warm, talented body. A criminal waste of talent, Rin called it.

"Is there something more troubling you, young master?" Mako's eyes sparked with teasing mischief, lips curving into a rakish smile that Rin would never confess to envying.

Oh God. Rin could feel his ears burning, a blush spreading down his skin too fast for him to follow. Makoto could make anything sound filthy, and delighted in tormenting his clients with his expertise. Still, he would never have another opportunity like this.

Rin leaned back against the headboard, sipping at his wine to wet his parched throat. "You've been working here a long time."

He caught the flash of surprise in Mako's eyes. It was rare that he ever managed to throw this man off-balance, but he had succeeded now. It was hardly more than a flicker of an eyelid, but Rin thought he could see a shadow of recrimination on Mako's face. Had he taken it for an insult? Damn. For all his lessons in etiquette, Rin knew he had never truly mastered the art of conversation.

Makoto was smiling again, any sign of offense vanished. "A long time for a whore, you mean. Madam does prefer to keep fresh meat on display, but I like to think I have a certain enduring charm." Mako tilted his head back, showing off the elegant line of his throat, the smooth skin of his chest and his toned stomach. "Wouldn't you agree, master Rin?"

"There is something about you." Rin agreed, sensing his moment, "But it's more than a pretty face."

"You flatter me." Mako's gaze sharpened as he took the first drink of his wine, eyes never leaving Rin's own.

"It isn't flattery if it's true."

"What more could I possibly have to offer." It wasn't a question, Rin thought it might even be a veiled threat.

"There's your skills, for one."

Mako's smile returned as though it had never vanished. He crawled up the coverlet, kneeling over Rin's hips and leaning over to set the wine on the bedside table. "I will defer to your expertise." He ground down slowly, undulating his hips until Rin arched thoughtlessly into the pressure, his free arm looping around Mako's waist to hold him steady. It was devilishly hard to remember what he had come for when all his blood was swiftly leaving his head.

"Aside from the obvious." Rin hissed reluctantly. Either this would be his final moment, or triumphant.

All movement ceased for one breath, two, then Makoto was leaping from the bed, every line of his body screaming alertness. "Speak quickly, Matsuoka, or be a dead man. I've no patience for coyness."

Shit. He had miscalculated badly, and now Mako was eyeing him like he was trying to decide where to stick the knife first. His impression probably wasn't far from the truth.

"I know who and what you are."

Mako feigned toward him and Rin scrambled to lay hold of him, exerting every ounce of his strength to hold Makoto in place. "Dammit, listen to me. I don't know how the hell you ended up working a brothel, but I'm offering you a way out." Rin gasped out the final word, reeling from a vicious blow to his gut. He released Mako, sucking in steady breaths past the pain.

Mako didn't move away from him; his face was set in grim lines but he had ceased his struggling. "A way out? I worked very hard to get here, Rin. I am not inclined to leave."

"No? Not even for the sake of that fine ship I mentioned a moment past? I can't believe you don't miss the rocking of a deck beneath your feet. I'm damn well certain you believe you were meant for more than catering to drunken, lecherous boys with more coin than wit. I'm offering you a share of what I intend to take, and my price is no more than the benefit of your experience."

There was far more to it than that, and Rin couldn't help the impulse that made him glance away. It was true he had come here with the intent of seducing Mako; the plan seemed laughable now, looking back. A merchant's son seducing a man who had made his name doing just that? Well, the name he was known by publicly anyway. There were altogether less refined sectors where men swore this man was a demon, a cunning fox whose loyalties were never certain.

Rin had been cured of his foolishness swiftly, but of course he had already fallen neatly into his own trap like so many others before him. The devil of it was, he still couldn't say what drew him to Tachibana Makoto, only that it was something he was loathe to surrender. He wanted this man for a partner in more ways than one.

His head rang when it connected with the headboard, a blow that left his wits scattered and breath coming short with Mako's knee planted firmly atop his breastbone. If he pressed too hard, Rin knew he would be dead; he also knew that had Mako intended it, he wouldn't have lived long enough to worry about his current circumstances.

"We will begin with how you came to know of me. Everything from my name to my occupations. Then you will tell me of your ship, and what exactly it is you intend to take."

The way Mako's lips shaped that final word was nothing short of sinful, Rin couldn't help but realize that if he leaned up the slightest bit, if Mako moved his knee and straddled his chest-

"If I am not satisfied with your answers, I will kill you. I beg you, don't ruin my sheets."

It was that voice, Rin would have sworn, that same artful cadence he used when he knew his partner was on the brink that made Rin's breath catch and his fingertips curl as though reaching just beyond his grasp. Whatever it was, Makoto saw it, and he offered a smile that was equal parts threat and promise.

"Does that thought truly excite you, Rin? Being fucked by a man that can kill you? I've seen it before, far too often if truth be told."

Rin's breath caught at the casually spoken profanity, eyes widening when Mako slowly shifted to straddle him, crawling up his body until his erection rested just below Rin's chin.

"Far be it from me to deny you, though I suggest you show me your best effort. I don't think you would like to disappoint me just now."

Rin licked his lips, offering a sharp smile too cocky by half for his circumstances. "We both know you're going to leave with me." He didn't give Mako a chance to respond, swallowing him as deep as his rebelling muscles would permit until Mako bucked instinctively against him, needy hands twining in Rin's hair.

"Too damn arrogant by half, Matsuoka. I'll train that out of you-" His words cut off into an unintelligible cry when Rin ran his teeth down that hot length, his hands rising to brace Mako through his violent tremors. They both knew how the night was going to end, but if Mako wanted to pretend his mind wasn't made up, Rin was pleased to oblige him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Makoto couldn't suppress a stab of disappointment at the dawning recognition he saw reflected in Haruka's eyes. It was good in a sense; it meant the man hadn't been lying when he asserted he and his ragtag bunch were not permanent residents of the island. All that was left was to determine whether they had a way of communicating with or even returning to the mainland.

It also meant that Haruka had at some point been in a position to learn the name of a man that had made it his life's work to be certain that name never spread any farther than necessary. He had grown careless in his last few months of duty, true, but not so much that every information broker in every corner of the earth would be familiar with it. Rin had sent him here to protect the crew by finding a ship if possible, but much as it shamed him his priorities had shifted with one disbelieving look, half-terrified glance.

It was there and gone again within a second, subsumed beneath that unshakable calm that Makoto was beginning to loathe with every fiber of his being. He understood now why Rin so often tried to provoke his temper; seeing another man so detached was infuriating. He would have taken the fear again or the anger, contempt or pleading as long as it was something more than that perfect front of indifference Haruka was affecting. Here was a man he could not read without the benefit of strong emotion, and that sat ill with him.

His first objective then must be to provoke it.

"These are the questions I want answered, Haruka. I will repeat them at regular intervals to be sure you do not forget." Gently and in measured tones; Rin's anger had not impressed this man, neither Nagisa's vehement threats.

"Most importantly," Who are you? "How do you communicate with the mainland? How many are there in your colony? How many are fighting fit? Whom do you represent? And then to satisfy my own curiosity, who are you?"

"What makes you think I give a single damn about your curiosity or your crew? That vessel will catch up soon and the lot of you will go to hell."

That answered a pressing question though Haru obviously did not know it. He did not have any training in intelligence gathering or he would have known better than to exchange any words at all with his captor. It was easier to keep the mouth moving when it was already accustomed to it. Perhaps this could be resolved with only a modicum of violence after all.

"What will become of you?" Makoto tugged at the ropes binding him, snorting at Haru's muffled hiss of annoyance. He had to be aching but he did not betray it with more than the occasional shift of his weight. "You don't suppose Rin will permit the man who crippled his ship to swim away, do you? He'll slit your throat and use your guts for chum; there are sharks in these waters."

Haruka was silent while he chewed on the inside of his cheek; when he tried to roll his shoulders Mako pinned them in place, stretching his arms until he heard the ropes tighten.

"This whole business is your fault. If you hadn't ambushed us when we came ashore we would have resupplied and been gone with no one the wiser. If you hadn't chased us out into the water you could be swapping tales with your comrades over the fire even now." An hour ago that had been precisely what Makoto had wished the man had chosen to do. He wanted a full night's sleep and a functional ship.

He still craved a full night's sleep, but this brief interlude was a pleasant taste of days past; his only concern was that he might lose himself in the familiarity of it.

The mattress shifted, Haruka attempting to compensate for the pressure on his lungs. Breathing was going to become a complicated affair if this took too long; that had always been Mako's favorite gambit, largely because it was so effective and required minimal effort on his part.

"You would have come too far inland." His eyes shifted to the pearls looped about Mako's wrist, forgotten in the excitement. "You would have taken far more than that."

Mako twisted the bracelet mockingly, "This is only a bauble, and not the only one of its kind. You were wearing it about your wrist before we arrived, weren't you? The skin is paler there."

"I will make another when I have finished with you." Mako could hear the wheeze of labored breathing in Haru's words, but the strain hadn't reached his face yet. He leaned farther in, ignoring a strange spark of awareness where their skin met. Many times he had seen his colleagues become aroused during interrogations, delighting in play they dare not indulge elsewhere. He had mocked them then, and had no intention of permitting the same to happen to him now.

"How much pressure do you suppose it would take to force the last of the air from your lungs, hm? They can collapse, did you know? I couldn't allow both, I need you alive a little longer, but really you only need one." He pressed, ignoring Haru's cut off groan.

"Let's start with something simple: there were children in your encampment, why?"

Haru only snorted, immediately regretting it when that much more air left his lungs. Mako adjusted his weight only slightly, gritting his teeth against the temptation to press Haru's face into the mattress and watch him writhe. He was angry, moreso than he could recall being since the incident that had cost him his commission, but it would do him no good if he killed the man by accident in a fit of pique.

"Were they born there or brought along? Are they orphans perhaps? I know some crews make their earnings transporting the dispossessed for free labor-"

"They're _children_ , not slaves."

"Born to you, then. It's a risky proposition, isn't it? You said we are not the first of our kind you have seen; it doesn't seem fair to me, keeping a child isolated here with nothing but gulls and urchins for company. Or is that your 'ship' is only a product of your fancies? A ruse, perhaps? That would explain why you haven't taken them to the mainland quite nicely."

It would also prove damned inconvenient to explain to Rin. Especially after promising he would have the location from Haru come hell or high water.

Haruka sputtered and Mako gently eased away, allowing him a couple gulps of air before he began to press again, elbows digging viciously into Haruka's ribs.

"We could just as easily make land and damn the consequences. It would mean heavier losses on both sides, and you can be sure Rin would have blood from your folk, but there are only so many places to keep a ship."

He leaned away, waiting for Haruka's response.

"Damned inconvenient if I lied. Suicide."

"Then you don't want us to make land. In the end I suppose that is the only answer I truly need."

"I'd prefer you didn't massacre an entire colony for spite, yes."

"Colony? That _is_ interesting."

Haruka shot him a venomous look, murder written plainly in every line of his too-smooth place. Finally, a reaction. Not as dramatic as Mako had hoped, but sufficient to temper the violence clawing for release just beneath his skin. It had been too long since he had played a man like this, and like a parched survivor he longed to drink deep of fear and surrender. The games he and Rin played had never quite compared to the genuine article.

"Who sponsored your colony, or was it an independent enterprise?" It would mean trouble if they attracted undue attention from the merchant's guild so soon after escaping the navy. The latter would not leave imperial waters, but the former would roam all the world over, making the task of finding a safe harbor doubly difficult.

"For all your vaunted skill it seems to me you have more questions than answers." Haru smiled devilishly, all triumph and open taunting, "Your reputation does you a little too much justice."

That rankled most of all. There was a time the mere mention of his name would have had even the bravest man spouting his secrets inside a minute. A few years of allowing those skills to fall by the wayside and now he couldn't even wrest the truth from a single boy after ten minutes and counting.

He was dancing around torture like some prudish maid around her lover. His instinct was still intact, only he needed to embrace it. Or perhaps put some of his other carefully honed and easily maintained skills to the test.

"You are half right, at least." Slowly he withdrew his boot knife from its protective sheath, watching Haru's eyes widen with understanding when it became visible over the edge of the bed. "I've always thought that damaging precious art ought to be a capital offense. Once reforged, it is never quite what it once was, and I don't hold with those factions that believe the history of the object should be written in its-" He ran the blade down Haru's spine to the unnatural dip- flesh would part so easily beneath it- "Skin."

At last the fear had returned, but mingled with a new expression, one he had seen a time or two in his old days, but not one had expected to see on the face of this prisoner.

Loathing. Terror. Fascination. Desire.

It took some men that way, fear and pain triggering the same response in their bodies as the most practiced of whores.

Well, there was certainly a reason he had been both gifted torturer and talented whore.

When he smiled, Haruka sneered back with such a challenge he had no choice but to meet it.

 

 

 

Rin glanced up at Nagisa's entry, barely distracted from his work. What pitch he had would not be enough to completely repair the damage, but perhaps enough that the pumps would not have to work overtime to keep them afloat.

"What is it?"

Even Nagisa looked away, eyes fixing on a point just over Rin's shoulder while he spoke. "Mako sent me to find you. He is dealing with the islander in the infirmary. What are my duties?"

Rin shook his head, "I need to know that every weapon is in working order. Check the cannons too. Let me know when Seijuro's ship is in range."

Nagisa blew the flyaway bangs from his eyes, rocking back on his heels guiltily. "They will be in range of us far sooner. We can only return fire, and only if Sei draws close enough to permit it."

"Check the cannons, Nagisa. After you've gone over the armory. Take Rei with you; he can tend to the rapiers while you see to firearms."

"Captain, if I may?"

The fact that he bothered to ask proved more than anything the crew had begun to understand their situation.

"Be brief."

"I don't think we can escape and keep the _Samenoe_. It's become an either or proposition."

"Then it's a damn good thing I don't keep you around for your brains. Leave."

"Aye, sir."

Nagisa scrambled out of the hold as though spirits dogged his footsteps, taking the stairs three at a time with hardly a stumble. The boy was agile, Rin would concede, but his strength had ever been long-range weaponry.

Rin wiped his hands carelessly on his coat, frowning at the work he had done so far. His cousins had always said it was not meet for a captain to dirty their hands at menial labor; perhaps that held true for merchant vessels, but he had learned quickly that a pirate captain was only captain by the grace of his crew and a good mate. What good-will he had accrued would be squandered if the vessel took much more damage, and Rin could not bring himself to entrust such a critical aspect of her care to someone else.

The truth of the matter was, regardless of what Mako learned he could not leave his ship. The deck had been stained with his blood and sweat, the sails showed spots where he had assisted in patching them back together, there were grooves in his cabin floor that his incessant pacing had worn after years. The _Samenoe_ was his first home and he meant it to be his grave.

Just not today. And neither could it be his prison.

As he worked, Rin thought up and discarded a dozen plans, each more desperate than the last. They could take to a cove behind the island outcropping, garnish the ship Mako believed must be nearby and use it to outfit the _Samenoe_. Only working that fast would require divine assistance and he did not know the waters well enough to navigate past shoals and sandbars.

They could allow Seijuro to catch up and stage a pitched battle, ferocity and experience against… experience, numbers, and a warship especially designed for taking punishing amounts of damage.

If they made land, the inhabitants would attack. The woman, Miho, had made it plain she would have Haru back or die trying. He could not afford to wage a battle on two fronts.

If they continued on to seek shelter at one of the larger islands, there was every chance Sei would catch them up. His sails were not designed to catch the wind in quite the same way but neither was he taking on water and managing an uncertain tiller.

If Rei could just get that damn tiller working, Rin was willing to chance the water. Six days in their condition, with the added weight throwing off their careful balance. Six days to safe harbor and supply he estimated. That would put Sei six days out of friendly waters. He would never chance it. They were just beyond imperial waters now, and the man was arrogant enough to continue the chase since he had doubtless recognized the ship, but the farther from his territory he roamed the less likely he was to find comrades.

There was no love lost between the _Samenoe_ and the dozens of other ships plying Southern water, but between settling scores amongst themselves or settling a long-standing blood debt with imperial envoys, Rin knew which his kind would choose. Could they last out the day? A day out of range and Sei would become uncomfortable. He was a pragmatic man, and if Rin had learned anything it was that he only took risks when he sure the payoff was sufficient.

Rin's clan was far too frugal to offer more than a frugal reward for his capture, and Sei's superiors would not approve of even the few nautical miles out of bounds he had ventured. No aid would be forthcoming if he found himself cornered. And he had to know it.

Could they bluff, drop anchor in the shallows and wait patiently? What damage they had sustained would not be visible from a distance and Sei might hesitate if they showed no sign of fleeing.

But having spent the last day doing just that, would he call their bluff? Nagisa was right to say their firepower was superior, too close and the _Samenoe_ was sunk. And the eldest son of the Matsuoka with it. No, Sei would not chance that. Once his family had been influential; after a series of poor decisions they were far from solvent and debtors had already been plaguing his father's estate before Rin had set his schemes in motion, but the Matsuoka name still meant a great deal in some circles. Enough that killing the former heir without the benefit of a very public trial would spell the end of a promising career.

A bluff it would have to be then, and a daring one at that. The _Samenoe_ would first have to limp to the shallows, circumnavigate the island and take shelter. All while contending with a dysfunctional tiller, tides and sandbars, not to mention a population hellbent on revenge. At least the tide would hold the _Samezuka_ at bay for a few hours. Long enough to see to the worst of their damage, perhaps arrange a parley if Seijuro was so inclined. Personally, Rin was not. There was nothing to discuss, but misguided man of honor that he was, Sei had always made an effort to proffer the hand of mercy.

A damned contemptuous gesture Rin called it.

An infinitesimal chance of success if Makoto could not secure the cooperation of their captive, but it was all they had. If he could persuade Haru to cooperate, then perhaps they could soldier on for a few days more. Long enough to make definitive plans, long enough that Rin could hope for a change of fate.

It was starting to feel a lot like the good old days.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Rei, cap'n says you're with me."

Rei barely paused, too busy threading lines through Nitori's willing hands. Nagisa would have taken a moment to admire the artistry of it if he were not already pressed for time. Upwards of seventy weapons to inspect and ready for combat with only Rei for company. Rin had not looked to be in a mood for disappointment when Nagisa had come upon him in the hold; in fact he had looked something like the devil he had once been rumored to be.

This past year had not been kind to their crew; one disaster after another had dulled Rin's edge for a time, too consumed with worry to notice how lenient he had become. This latest setback had brought him roaring back to life, and Nagisa found himself wary of testing just how deep those particular waters were.

"Rei-"

"Wait, Nagisa." Nitori's voice carried to him in the hush, steady and certain of obedience. Not today.

He marched to Rei's side, prying the line from him with a hectic burst of energy, completely ignoring a barely muffled shriek of dismay. "Armory, now. Rin's orders."

"Dammit. How many twinings was that, Nitori?"

"I think we'll have to undo at least the last two."

Both slanted equally malevolent gazes in Nagisa's direction; Rei cast the line aside disgustedly, muttering what sounded like highly uncomplimentary imprecations under his breath. The shock of it was enough to make Nagisa hesitate, though not for long. How long had it been since he had personally experienced Rei's anger? Too long ago to remember, that was certain. The trouble with Rei was he could never simply throw a tantrum and have it done with. First came the shouting, then the wrathful telling off, then the silence that warned Nagisa he felt both guilty and justified. In the end, his personal vindication always won out and Nagisa was left to make the apologies.

Perfect. Another chore to add to an already impressive list. He rocked back on his heels, radiating offense. "Fine. Stay and work with Nitori. Don't blame me when Rin kicks your ass for disregarding orders, no skin off my teeth."

"I think you had better go with him. He'll never be silent, otherwise." Nitori muttered, untangling the mess Nagisa had made of their line; his voice was deceptively mild and all the confirmation Nagisa needed that they would have to have a reckoning sooner rather than later.

"Can you manage on your own? I think the captain would agree the tiller line takes precedence over inventory."

"Obviously not or he wouldn't be sending you with me." Nagisa twined a firm hand in Rei's coat, attempting to drag him toward the door and not succeeding in moving him even an inch.

"I will manage. Go."

Then Rei was good enough to shift his stubborn feet, striding off at such a rapid clip that Nagisa was the one left trailing behind.

It was infuriating, seeing how far Rei and Nitori had come even in a few hours of working together. Now they were speaking as equals, and temporary though he knew it to be, Nagisa found it rankled. Always Rei had belonged to him first. He had been the one to convince Rei that he could be a gentleman and a pirate, he had been the first to take his meals together with the quiet man who had spent nearly a month aboard ship without befriending his peers. He had been the first to recommend Rei as navigator when he had seen how capable the man was with a sextant and the first one Rei had turned to when his conscience was afflicting him.

Months it had taken him to court Rei, patience he hadn't realized he possessed and more than a little luck. Now it felt as though he was losing him to Nitori. What's worse, looking back he could see it had begun from the first moment Nitori had set foot aboard ship. Both men came from the same rarefied culture Nagisa had never been a part of, never even aspired to partake of, both still kept something of their gentle mannerisms even after so long with a crew of ruffians.

They were a better match. And clearly he himself was showing a pattern, falling first for a minor aristocrat and getting caught up in a web of fascination with one entirely too mysterious surgeon. Hell, he hadn't protested too much when Nitori had pinned him to the door and fucking ravished him.

Of course, part of his acquiescence had something to do with that pesky question of what it was Nitori wanted from him and whether he intended to dispose of Nagisa once he had it.

In a burst of desperation, Nagisa reached out and fisted a hand in the back of Rei's coat, "You should stay away from him."

"Who?" Rei mumbled, far more subdued than he had been a moment ago. Had it only been a fit of pique then? They were all on edge; maybe for a moment Rei had simply reached the end of his tether.

"Nitori Aiichirou. Ship's surgeon, sometime madman. We don't know much about him, and apparently everything we did know is a lie."

"We know it will go ill for him if the imperial navy takes us, the same goes for every man aboard; I don't need to know any more."

"He kissed me." Nagisa blurted out in desperation; he nearly stumbled into Rei's suddenly stationary back.

"What?" At last Rei was looking at him. Genuine confusion pulled the corners of his lips down, brows gathering in a frown of concern. Shit. They needed to be in the armory, but Nagisa knew just from looking they were not going so much as another pace without an acceptable answer to that very valid question.

"In the infirmary when I went to apologize. He kissed me. I-" Nagisa took a breath, gathering all his courage for one final admission: "Kissed him back." He couldn't breath, his throat was closing and Rei was just looking at him in such perfect disbelief and he could feel his skin reddening beneath that dedicated study and-

"Please, Rei, stay away from him." _Please don't abandon me_ , he wanted to say, but he didn't have the right. He loved Rei, truly; he had since the first time Rei had casually brushed his pistol aside and stared him down, all the while surrounded by hostiles. He had wanted him fiercely and put everything he had into the pursuit of that goal, and now he had jeopardized that for the sake of a single, stolen moment. What was worse, he was fairly sure he would repeat the mistake if it happened again.

Conclusion, as Rei would say, he was not deserving of the loyalty he had.

"I can't promise that." Rei said at last, still looking at Nagisa like he was one of those beloved puzzles Rei hoarded for his free days. "We have to talk, he and I. I want to know what it is he wants. I need to know what you want too."

"You-"

Rei clamped a solid hand on his shoulder, shaking his head slowly. "We need to sort out the weapons situation, then we can come back and sort this out. Then I need your honest thoughts." He nodded as though reassuring himself of his priorities and let go. "Honest, Nagisa. No creative truths."

That… that hadn't gone as expected. Nagisa stood rooted to the deck, gaping after what had to be the singular most unpredictable man on the high seas. Rei was the one to bring him back as always, turning around not half a dozen paces away to chivvy him along.

"Captain's orders, Nagisa, on the double."

He bolted after, mind aswirl with new questions and possibilities.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Haruka stiffened at the cold bite of the blade lingering a moment too long at his back. The tip was perilously close to his kidneys and he was all too aware that a single jab could dispatch him. Makoto could not afford to kill him, he assured himself. No matter which way he looked at it, this crew would require his cooperation if they hoped to stay free and clear of imperial influence. It was aid he was not inclined to provide.

Unfortunately he had also become keenly aware of the growing ache in his ribs and shoulder blades, his deprived lungs making their protests felt each time Mako forced his weight down… and a curious excitement every time he hovered on the dangerous brink of consciousness.

Mako's voice was low and soothing, perfectly amicable and entirely at odds with their situation. That only made it worse. He was perverse, that much was plain because hardly had it been twenty minutes and he was already considering seeing if he could not win his freedom by seducing the man into a false sense of security. Seducing in whatever way was necessary. It had hardly escaped his notice how Makoto's breath caught when he pressed them skin to skin, and angry as he was he still watched as Mako unconsciously mimicked the minute shifts of his body.

The man was watching him so closely, looking for any sign of weakness but also unwillingly drawn. He was a handsome enough man, Haruka knew, and it was plain there was already something between captain and first mate. Would it be that much harder to shift his attention for a minute or three? Just long enough to get his hands free and preferably on that knife Mako was menacing him with.

Then, for the sheer pleasure of it, maybe he could push Mako into taking his relief. He would be dismayed, ashamed at how swiftly the tables had turned against him… and Haru would be free. With that thought in mind, he shifted again, a languorous movement that both stretched out the burning muscles in his back and showed them off to best advantage. It had to be tempting, having an enemy at his mercy and entirely alone.

Makoto's rumbling laughter had the hairs prickling on his neck and heat pooling uncomfortably in his gut. "I see we are in accord at least."

Before Haruka could ask him what the hell they were supposed to be in agreement on, his legs had been cut loose. Gratefully he stretched out even further, waiting for blood to return with agonizing slowness. Mako caught his arms, drawing them down his back as he began to massage pained shoulders.

"It is rather difficult to keep my mind on the matter at hand. Though…" Haru gasped and flinched when Mako reached under him, knowing fingers finding the evidence of his own betrayal.

"I am clearly not the only one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe a major apology to [thecojsz](http://thecojsz.tumblr.com/). I completely forgot to link to her art in the last chapter and only noticed when I recently went back to edit. 
> 
> The link is [here](http://thecojsz.tumblr.com/post/83652660685/i-had-a-really-shitty-day-so-i-had-to-just-draw/).
> 
> And for the record, I think everyone needs to go through this entire blog because I did not realize how badly I needed genderfluid NagiRei until I had! :)


	13. Cats and Mice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The funny thing about cats and mice? Sometimes the mouse wins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Caerul! I lied, but it was for a good cause. Which is... well, you know the rest.

_Shit._

By some miracle Haru managed to keep from thrusting into Mako's sudden grip. Arousal was not an uncommon reaction to fury or fear, and the farther this game progressed the more willing he was to admit privately that he was concerned for his health. The question was no longer whether he was going to answer Makoto's questions, but which would be least damaging to his ultimate aim. If he played his cards right, and Mako certainly seemed susceptible, then he could be home shortly and all of this would be no more than an unfortunate memory.

If he guessed wrong there was far worse his captors could do than a little discomfort or intimidation. He would rather have been dealing with the captain. That would at least have been a straightforward negotiation between equals. With this one he could never be sure whether his reactions were correct or only digging his grave deeper. In either case, he wanted to conclude their banter as swiftly as possible but leave Mako with no suspicions regarding his intent. That could come later, when this crew of madmen were safely on the ocean floor.

"Have you been so long without a woman that anyone will do?"

Makoto laughed aloud, a genuine roar of mirth that set the bed to quaking, "A bold question, especially given your position. What if my answer was yes?"

Still he had not moved his hand. He had to know that Haru wanted nothing more than to move, but if he did it would only make him seem that much more desperate and Makoto would pounce on any vulnerability like a cat on a mouse.

Haruka had never been in the mouse's position before. It was not coming naturally to him.

"Resorting to rape? A ham-handed tactic, I expected better."

Mako sighed melodramatically, "That's what a few years at sea does, I suppose. Strips away all those manners you were at such pains to learn." His eyelids fluttered violently, and despite his words he jerked away as though burned.

Haruka wondered how much of that reaction was the doing of his snide remark and how much was merely his captor hoping to keep him off balance. He strongly suspected the latter, but almost regretted the impulse that had made him strike out verbally. It was plain Mako was dabbling with the captain, they had taken no pains to hide it. Would it divide them if Mako were found with another man? He might well have thrown away a strategic advantage because he didn't have the spine to take it.

Makoto still hadn't seen fit to free him from the last of the restraints; would he if this progressed any further? Haruka stretched his muscles again, feeling more limber now that his initial panic was beginning to recede. The answer could not possibly be so simple as a seduction; this could hardly be the first time a prisoner had tried their luck and Haru was painfully aware that under the best of circumstances it would prove difficult to carry off. Bound in makeshift restraints and testing his untried wiles against a former spymaster was hardly the best of circumstances.

Nevertheless, Mako had shown a marked interest in him. Evidently he was appealing, whether it was for his form or lack of variety hardly mattered.

Haruka allowed a challenging smile to twist his lips, gut churning with an acute mixture of trepidation and excitement; it was the peril that appealed to him he supposed. On the one hand, victory could only come with sacrifice, but on the other…

He was familiar with the practice. During his own days at sea it was an open secret that some of the crew turned to their mates for relief; brothels in ports were always careful to appeal to every taste, regardless of legality. He knew the gist, but wasn't certain he could bring himself to play this particular game. At least not against this opponent, and not with so little time to get used to the idea.

The scene flashed through his eyes, missing a detail here or there. He needed only the basic scope of the potential outcomes to make his decision.

If he could keep Mako occupied and simultaneously cause trouble between captain and first mate then his efforts would be rewarded. Miho would already be taking steps to ensure their own would be protected; much as he would rather keep this crew from their boat it would put him back ashore with more valuable resources at his command. It would give Miho a chance at rescue he knew she wouldn't pass up, and the selfish part of him wanted to give in and proceed with that plan in mind.

But.

If these sons of bitches stayed aboard ship it was only a matter of time before the imperial navy caught them up. Haruka was no more eager to deal with imperialists than the pirates but his treatment was sure to be superior and his avenues of escape more numerous than if he were under this man's care. And assuming they did escape by some miracle, the _samenoe_ would have no choice but to put in to the nearest port for repairs regardless of their druthers. In these waters there were very few ports that welcomed corsairs; he could guess the island they would have to make for.

And wonder of wonders, but he had a friend or two there that might be willing to do him a favor in exchange for the same. This unfortunate circumstance would neatly conclude with his kin safe from harm, all for the price of a few baubles easily recuperated. Two birds struck neatly with one stone. The only question that remained was how far he would have to go to keep Makoto and his kind entertained long enough to guide them into the mouth of the trap.

Slowly, biting back a wince at the sharp ache, Haru drew his legs up enough to push himself into a sitting position. He entertained a brief fantasy of dislocating his shoulder and slipping the last of his bonds, but that would prove both excruciating and ineffective, even supposing he could muster the will to see it through. Mako took a step back, folding his arms at his chest and watching with mute appreciation while Haru squirmed and writhed into position.

As with any negotiation, the first man to speak would lose ground. He knew instinctively that Makoto would not breathe a word until he did.

"You're remarkably silent for a man that had so many questions."

"You were thinking. It would have been rude to interrupt." The unholy gleam in his eyes suggested he had divined at least something of Haruka's thoughts and was not prepared to yield easily.

"If you were considering that seduction might distract me, I assure you that is entirely correct." The words were light and teasing, the sudden tension in Mako's face bespoke a nervousness whose source Haruka couldn't begin to guess.

He knew so little of this man: once officer, once spymaster, once prostitute, but why and where and what else? He had killed all the right men for years, carried out his duties with a zealousness that disconcerted his peers and an enjoyment that even his infamous predecessor found repulsive. Then he had killed the wrong man. And now- what was Tachibana Makoto now?

Haruka hoped the years away had dulled his edge.

"I would rather be your prisoner than your whore." It was nothing less than the truth. Painful experience had taught him that when dealing with professionals the best lies began with a foundation of honesty.

"That answers one of my questions."

"Which one would that be?" Like they were having conversation over supper. Except that his hands were beginning to sting from lack of blood and his throat was parched after breathing so much salt air.

"I was considering the fastest way to convince you to answer my other, very reasonable questions. Your choice, then, is whether you will answer and remain solely a prisoner until such time as the _Samezuka_ is no longer a threat or whether you would rather try your hand at whoring. Myself, I think you have the look of a natural."

Makoto's smile was almost as toothy as his captain's, and lacking in all the warmth that made Rin's even fractionally appealing.

Haru drew a final steadying breath. Makoto had taken the bait, and now it was on him to play it out.

"Fine."

 

 

The boy's reaction was unexpected to say the least. A stray breeze could have knocked Makoto down in his shock. After the scorn and contempt, the insolence that dripped from his every word and his insistence that no manner of coercion would make him speak, he was disappointed to find that this was the limit of Haruka's resolve.

Disappointed and profoundly suspicious. Rape was a threat most men found viscerally terrifying, and he had witnessed a range of reactions from immediate cooperation to violent rebellion, but for this one to resign himself so quickly, and without even the merest vestige of surprise or disgust-

Makoto could not bring himself to trust the easy compliance. For all that, he still posed the question most plaguing Rin's mind: "Do you have a seaworthy craft?"

Haruka's voice was flat, so devoid of rage it could only be a mask. "She's not built for deep water." A flick of the eyes and tightening of the chin said the words tasted bitter on his tongue. Likely truth then, at least in part.

It went without saying that his comrades would have taken care by now to secure the safety of their only seaworthy vessel. Assuming-

"Are there more?"

"No." Haruka sucked his teeth quietly, resentment still smoldering in his eyes.

Every instinct screamed at Mako to be wary but he could not see where the trap might be set. There was nothing in tone or body to give the man's intentions away and after his honest reaction of only a few minutes ago that in itself was disturbing.

"Was your ship provided by a merchanting guild? Are you allied with any-"

"No. We don't care to pay dues any more than the next man."

Mako sneered contemptuously, bitter amusement bleeding into his voice: "Then you are hardly any better than pirates yourselves. How many to your makeshift clan?"

" _That_ I will not answer. But I will say that you have no chance of taking them off guard again, an attempt would not go well for you and yours." The fire rose in his gaze and Mako was comforted. He had found a boundary Haru still was not willing to cross. Perhaps it was only his mind, playing tricks and making him imagine the task had been too simple. He was interrogating a pearl diver, not a trained spy, really what could he have expected?

Except that for his eleventh hour protest, Haruka was still showing signs of uncertainty. Regretting his decision not to follow through with a play at seduction? That had been among his smarter choices since stepping foot aboard ship. As it was, Makoto was half-tempted to keep him for spite's sake. What benefit in joining freeloading corsairs if he could not indulge like one every now and again?

After all, Rin had promised him his very own dolphin not so long ago, and this was the closest he had found to actually keeping one. Haruka _was_ a talented swimmer, and he had the body to show for it.

Anticipation prickled his skin, Mako barely kept from licking his lips with it. He had not said seduction was off the table merely for the sake of a few answers he would have extracted anyway. And simply because _Haruka_ had decided not to try his hand at it did not mean he was bound by that decision.

Questions first, _then_ indulgence. It was the hallmark of a professional and the last vestige of his training he still doggedly clung to. Besides which, delay always made the prize more delectable.

Of course, time was pressing and if he delayed there was no telling when or if the opportunity might present itself again. If the _Samezuka_ caught them up this could well be his last chance. In a contest between professional pride and personal pleasure, he knew which was going to win out before he had even taken that small step forward, kneeling down to place them at eye level again and laying his palms flat against Haruka's thighs in a way that had his captive tensing to run.

Indulging with prisoners was something that had never appealed to him before. What fun could there be in seducing someone that was already subdued?

That was the draw of Haruka, he supposed. By all rights he should have been thoroughly cowed, but his defiance was more than a show of bravado- it was confidence and contempt, frustration, and animal rage that anyone would dare to think him tamed.

Such a pity about that last knot wound round his wrists. The one that kept him from lashing out with all that banked fury painted so becomingly on his face. Makoto's smile broadened into a grin that would have better suited his captain, all teeth and naked hunger.

"What made you change your mind about answering me?" He could see understanding in Haruka's eyes, and a blatant challenge to follow through. A nervous palsy set his body to trembling for a split second only to fall still. Makoto shivered in sympathy, startled to find that at some point his chest had begun to rise and fall in time with Haruka's own. Their breathing was shallow and choppy, bodies relaxed only because they each willed it so with a last shred of focus.

"It certainly wasn't your charm." Haruka scoffed, raising a brow while his bloodless lips stayed frozen in a smirk. His muscles leapt beneath Mako's fingers as they smoothed over the fabric down to the seam that ran up his leg… and up still a little more-

Haruka's mouth tightened with displeasure but he didn't protest or pull away, only locked eyes with Mako, telling him without words to carry through and suffer the consequences if he was reckless enough.

He was beautiful, Mako thought, but not in Rin's way: fire and passion with the merest whisper of softness beneath.

 _Sylvan_. _Otherwordly,_ his mind provided, still lingering over impossible eyes and a chin set tight with defiance. Haru's softness was all on the surface and Mako battled with an impulse to strip it away with fear and agony in order to bare the steel he could see just beneath, so perilously close to the surface it had his neck hair prickling with a keen awareness of their proximity. Haruka could attack him now. It was unlikely he would succeed in making his escape, but Mako would not put it past this man to lunge for his throat and tear out the artery with his teeth.

The image was vivid in his mind, and he noted only peripherally that he had swallowed in sympathy with his false shade, barely stifling an impulse to clamp a protective hand to his throat when Haruka's mouth opened.

"Are we through?" The words held the chill of winter's first breath, but Mako could feel heat through the thin cloth shielding Haruka's skin. Pale skin that would be quick to show bruises and where scars would only seem a lighter shade of moonlight. He could carve a map into this man's skin that would never fade, but in time would only be seen by its bearer as he moved beneath a high sun. Invisible except to the touch of fingers and a discerning eye.

"Where are you from?"

Haruka rocked back, probably trying one last time to eel out of his bonds before accepting the inevitable. "I'll tell you when I get to hell."

"I could send you there right now." Mako finally remembered the thin blade he had used to sever the rope. Almost of its own volition the blade rose to press against the dip just beneath Haru's chin. One hard jab, a vicious yank and he was dead. Mako blinked rapidly, pushing memories aside. It didn't escape his notice the way Haruka's gaze sharpened, eyes narrowed and intent.

He pressed, watching a thin welt rise. Their prisoner was dehydrated, any imprint left on him would linger. Distracted, Mako nearly winced when his blade pressed a little too deep, a thin line of blood welling. It had been years since he had made such a novice miscalculation, but he didn't immediately pull away, too busy watching Haruka lick his chapping lips nervously, only to bite down in a surge of determination. He never flinched, not so much as a hitch of breath to betray his fear. Just that thoughtless lick.

Knife steady, Mako closed the distance between them to press his lips to the blood. Rin claimed there were some who believed that taking a man's blood would give them life, that taking the heart could somehow confer bravery. At the time he had dismissed it for a tale used to send a stubborn child flying for the safety of his bed. He thought perhaps he could see the allure now.

 

 

 

Haruka froze at the first touch of lips against his flesh, hands clenching into fists as best they could. He had thought his life was over when Mako had pressed that knife to his throat; there was a glint of madness in his eyes that had not been there a moment ago. He wasn't sure if Mako was even seeing _him_ anymore or a phantom from his past.

He couldn't have moved even if his life depended on it, and Haru was half-convinced it might depend on _not_ moving, but he almost recoiled when he felt the rough lap of Mako's tongue along the cut. A vicious nip made him wince, toes curling to keep from even the smallest twitch. This he had not been prepared for. He had hoped Mako would make some sort of advance, maybe push him to the bed or leave a mark on him that could not come from torture.

 _That_ he could have exploited, showing it to the captain and the crew, sowing doubt and discord: if their first mate could be won in so short a time what manner of concessions might he have made for a favored prisoner? It was supposed to end there. With the _Samezuka_ so close and his captain clamoring for answers, Mako was not supposed to have had time for dalliance.

Except that Haru could feel his calloused palms catching on the rough material of his trousers while they traced up the inside of his thigh, pushing his hips just a little farther apart. The knife was still clasped loosely in his left, the flat of the blade was cold even through his clothes. Mako's hands hesitated at the juncture of his thighs, there was no denying that he was hard, but both of them were painfully aware of it already.

Mako pulled away slightly and Haru was relieved to see a return to sanity in his face, but his hands still slid farther-

Behind Haru's back to the ropes binding his hands- was he going to free them? Haru struggled to keep his intentions from showing on his face. As soon as he was loose he would head-butt Mako, take the knife while he reeled in disbelief and bolt for the door. No use wasting his time fighting a dead man. He'd be in the water before they could raise the alarm and far enough way to evade capture by the time anyone was ready to come for him. Miho would already have put their defensive strategy into motion, he would secure the boat and wait.

If they did not come so much the better, and if they did he would be waiting with reinforcements.

"If you try any of it, I will castrate you, leave you here to die, and ask my captain's permission to stake your pretty companion out on the shore at high tide. He'll be delighted."

"You don't have the time."

Haru sucked in a breath as the ropes were freed, blood rushing to his fingertips so that they burned with unexpected pain. Mako pulled back just in time to catch the brunt of the head-butt with his mouth, while Haru recoiled, damn sure that his head would show the imprints of Mako's teeth for years to come. His only satisfaction came of watching Mako spit pink onto the deck and run his tongue along his teeth to check for any shaken loose. Evidently satisfied that none were in danger, he smiled.

"I suppose that was fair."

His answering grin was feral to say the least, made all the more so by the warm trickle of blood he could feel beginning just above his forehead. His arms still would not move, and he half-wished sensation hadn't returned to his fingers so he allowed the blood to fall unimpeded. Aching as it was, he dared not shake his head-

Mako's thumb smeared over the cut, leaving Haru to stare disbelievingly while he licked the blood from it. "Head wounds always bleed so much. You have to be careful of the hands too."

Haru's chuckle was not a sound of amusement by any stretch of the imagination. "I thought you were going to castrate me?" He wished he could call back the words the second they left his mouth. Not because he was worried Mako might make good on his threat, but because rather than answering, he began gathering up the length of rope, testing its roughness against his hand. Haruka knew what was coming before Mako even spoke.

"I think I've found another way to take my due." The knife thudded into the deck with enough force that Haru leapt, gazing wide-eyed at the way it stuck in the wood. The amount of strength required to embed the tip in the deck should have been more than such a slender man could muster.

He didn't resist when Mako took his hand, massaging it gently in a way that managed to be not at all reassuring. He didn't kick when Mako reached down to draw his ankle up, neither when he felt the rope begin to loop around foot and hand together, no longer so tight but every bit as inexorable. He knew what was coming, but hadn't expected it to be quite so methodical or so amicable after his assault.

"We'll have to be careful of your fingers. Nagisa nearly lost his once owing to a careless knot. By the bye, I don't suppose you want to tell me where your ship came from?"

His other hand, his other foot, Haru felt like nothing so much as a dressed pheasant until Mako began to push him back, spreading his legs as he pressed down on his shoulders.

"No, I didn't suppose so."

The retort Haru had planned stuck in his throat. His vision was hazy at the edges, and something gnawed at the back of his mind. Something _important, dammit_. A memory he knew he needed, but try as he might he couldn't wrest it to the surface. It was vital. His skin itched like bugs crawled beneath and his head was _splitting_ with more pain than the head-butt should ever have caused and the damn ropes were chafing his skin but there was something here he was missing and it was as pressing as his next breath-

The next moment Makoto's lips were on his, and the memory was torn from his grasp and flung away like so much parchment.

 

 

 

Kissing him was like drowning.

Makoto froze, overcome by a moment of blind panic. His head was beneath the water and his throat was so _tight_ , like someone had wrapped a noose about it. He couldn't draw a breath or the water would come rushing in, invading him with its coldness. Bells rang in his ears, and his own heartbeat gone wild-

He threw himself away from the man on the bed, gasping for breath and shaking with a terror he hadn't felt since his boyhood. Haruka appeared just as stunned as he, blue eyes wide with understanding, a knowledge he couldn't possibly have because only Rin knew what had happened that day. Makoto had killed the only other man he had told of it.

"You-" Haru's voice was unsteady, deeper than it had been a moment ago. There was a curious inflection to it Mako couldn't name, a tone he had never heard in all his years or any of his professions. Whatever it was it sent ice flowing through his veins and turned his legs to water.

"Who _are_ you?"

He did not know if Haruka had asked the question or whether it was only an echo in his mind, but of all the questions he had sought answers for today that had suddenly become the most pressing.

With an effort he forced his legs to stop trembling, counting down until his breath evened out. The careless smirk that always came so easily to him refused to form so he settled for impassivity, a raised brow and questioning look when he wanted nothing more than to scramble outside and catch a breath of life-giving air to be sure he could.

Haruka mirrored his actions, and it was infuriating the way he could shrug off what had occurred so swiftly. In the space of a few seconds they were captor and prisoner again, but Mako knew he had lost ground. Haruka had seen a weakness, one he hadn't even been aware of, and he would not soon forget it.

Rage coiled in his gut when he saw that Haruka could muster a satisfied smile, one that said he was tied but in no way bound. Not any longer. _What the hell happened?_

He was half-afraid to touch Haruka again, but years of training forced him to close the distance between them. Mako pried the knife from the floorboard with a vicious jerk, drawing comfort from its reassuringly familiar weight. He had lost himself for only a moment, it wouldn't happen again.

Haru's hair was matted with dried salt after his night in the water, Mako twined his fingers in it, making sure he could not wrench himself up or away. He regretted the insanity that had made him take Haru's blood, and whatever had possessed him to steal that kiss, Mako banished it to the darkest corner of hell, but there was no lingering effect when he brushed against Haru's skin. No half-remembered impressions assaulted him.

"You should let me go." Haru's voice was utterly devoid of emotion. The cadence was all wrong, nothing like their spirited exchange. His eyes had changed too, no longer the dark blue Mako had admired on shore, but lighter now, lit with an unholy spark. The words sounded oddly prophetic, even uttered by a man still lying complacently on the bed.

It should have looked absurd, it should have been laughable, but Mako spoke in all seriousness when he answered. "Never."

The spell was broken as easily as that. He could almost feel himself shaking off the strange pall that had fallen over them. Haru shivered as he stretched, clenching his eyes shut and opening them again almost as though he was waking from a sleep. Mako didn't give him any more time to recover, knowing hands already prying at his shirt- _wisteria._ The surgeon.

His blade made short work of the fabric, hovering a mere breath above vulnerable skin. Haruka was still as any predator, nothing to betray him but the rising color in his cheeks, spreading down his neck and across the top of his chest. Mako quieted the voice of reason that insisted there was no time for this. So long as he did not think too deeply he could convince himself this was simply another aspect of his interrogation. Haruka would answer no more questions, he had yielded too much ground and for all he was a prisoner Haruka still had not accepted that he was not the arbiter of his fate.

But Mako's creeping, indefinite fear receded with every touch of warm skin against his own. His hands knew the path to follow, down Haruka's sides to his hips to linger there with unspoken threat and promise. He studied Haruka's still-light eyes, seeing the way his pupil was blown wide, the dedicated focus on every shift of his captor's expression, how his breathing grew quicker and deeper as he fought to control it. Neither of them were left unaffected by the interlude.

"Will you guide my captain to your craft?"

Haruka was surprised by the question, Mako could feel it in the tensing of his body and read it in the hitch of his lungs. "No."

Not so surprised as to surrender.

"Not without a concrete assurance of my people's safety."

 _Oh?_ Mako bridled. Rin would expect him to pursue this line of questioning; he should bargain and placate if those were the terms offered. All his years of training and experience screamed at him to kill the man and lie to his captain. Somehow this would be turned against them, he just couldn't figure out the _how_ of it. His time aboard the _Samenoe_ had done nothing to make him cautious, even as common sense railed against him he was rallying to the thought of a game between equal opponents.

Here he held every piece, but if he allowed Haruka to dictate to him in even this small manner the balance of power could shift ever so precariously. Enough even to put him and his erstwhile crew in jeopardy. Enough to give him a _taste_ of what the bad old days had been like, when he had never been certain whether he would wake from his sleep and every day promised intrigue upon intrigue and his every choice decided who would live to see the end of it.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Hadn't his master warned him every man that drank to the dregs of power would never be rid of the thirst for it? He was as bad as any poppy addict, and this untried _savage_ had just all-unknowingly tapped into the source of his discontent.

Rin would kill him if he took this gamble and lost. After so many seasons of plenty most of the crew had forgotten what Rin was capable of in the cold, biting months. There had been so few supplies for so many mouths, and it had been Rin that made sure no one's belly was _too_ empty. In those days he had never threatened. In those days Mako had stalked at his heels like a loyal hound, snarling at everyone but never biting. That had been a privilege Rin reserved solely to himself.

Too many good years had made them both soft and complacent; uncertain where boldness was required, content when it was their starveling ambition that had brought them this far.

It was as plain as day what was required of him. He had promised to serve Rin faithfully but never blindly, and always at his own discretion. A betrayal of this magnitude would not be forgiven lightly, if at all.

Assuming Rin ever found out. In the end he would, sins had a way of making themselves known, but by then its purpose would be accomplished and they would all be the better for it.

Mako's fingers played over Haru's legs, watching for a protest. He saw curiosity, determination, annoyance and just the right degree of fear to make his own blood rise. "What manner of assurance would that be?"

The whispered words sounded as loudly as the report of Nagisa's pistols between them. Haruka startled beneath his touch, gritting his teeth. Mako gave in to the urge to move closer, sliding over taut muscle and surprisingly soft skin, pushing Haru's legs apart to cradle his own hips and sliding ever so gently against him. Just enough to deepen the ache that had seized hold of him the minute he had first seen those impossible eyes. Haru's breath hissed between his teeth, as much warning as acceptance in the sound.

Doubtless the islander's spirit rejected what his body welcomed, but so long as the denial did not cross his lips Mako intended to give them both what they craved. He checked the bindings again, noting the pinkening of Haru's fingertips. This would have to be rushed then; it would ruin his mood if the man were permanently damaged. He nearly leapt from his skin when, far from pulling away, Haru widened his stance of his own volition, sinking farther down and deliberately cradling Mako's hips.

"I will make shore first and speak with Miho. Then I will _personally_ accompany you to our vessel and thence to whatever berth you choose. I will return within a specified number of days- along with our vessel- or you will find our island will cease to be neutral territory. We will yield it to imperial control; I am sure it will be a damn sight easier to pursue your ship once a permanent base is established there."

He was not bluffing, Mako knew it down to the marrow of his bones though he would have been hard pressed to say exactly how. It was a hefty sacrifice he was prepared to make, but great gains always required substantial risk. He too was counting on exactly that. And if he stood to lose so much, why not take a little?

"Understood, but… if I may?"

Haruka nodded unconsciously, stiffened again when one of Makoto's nimble hands slipped between them to investigate his already hard length. Poor thing, he was new to these games his opponent had mastered years ago. A languid arch reminded him the islander learned fast, and he was woefully out of practice after such a long stretch of fidelity. He thanked the fates anew he had had the foresight to keep those hands bound; it had been so long since had played with a clever novice he had forgotten how intoxicating it could be.

He leaned down to press his mouth to Haru's ear. Like Rin, he was sensitive there, from the corner of his eye he could see Haru's toes curl slightly in an effort to prevent any other reactions. "If I may… why not simply tell me as much when I asked the question, hm? Why does this suddenly seem so reasonable to you?"

"If I had answered then, we wouldn't be _here_ , would we?"

An evasion if ever he had heard one. Haruka obviously did not expect him to believe it, and he did not, but half his enjoyment lay in knowing that treachery was inevitable and pursuing the same path anyway. The other half came chiefly of seeing his enemies suffer for their betrayal. With so many others counting on his judgment, it would be laughably simple to wound this one beyond recovery. He had to know it too. Mysteries within enigmas.

Mako nearly leapt away when he felt Haru's teeth latch unexpectedly in the flesh of his shoulder, piercing the skin until he felt the warmth of blood. The pain was manageable, even pleasant with the familiarity of so many years receiving exactly the same treatment from Rin. Fortunately they were in the infirmary, he could cleanse the wound himself without alerting the physician to it.

"Now I've taken your blood as well, I suppose that makes it a pact."

It would have if Mako were one of the superstitious sea-folk that normally crewed these ships. As it was he found it a damned nuisance that Haruka had not reacted quite so… violently as he had. Whatever that fit had been, it was unique to him. Mako chased away the tingle of fear with another kiss.

 _Mount again_ , his master had said the first time he was thrown from his horse. And the second, and the third. Fear was as difficult to excise as any disease once it had taken hold.

There was no drowning this time, no dizzying rush or seconds lost to teeth-chattering impressions of half-forgotten memories. He tasted the salt and iron of his own blood on chapped lips, felt the warmth of pliant flesh beneath him, heard the shift as Haru dared to turn his head, instinctively seeking a better angle. It was fury as much as lust, Mako knew. Even captive as he was, Haru was still attempting to exert control over his precarious situation, and Makoto was all too pleased to take advantage of it.

The shirt was gone in a second's time, the catch of his pants pulled away to make room for Mako's grasping fingers. He struggled to pull away, but Haru did not require the use of his hands to hold him motionless, questing teeth biting into the curve of his lip, mouth opening to invite his tongue, kissing with enough banked anger that Mako could almost pretend it was passion. Not that he was so inclined. This embrace did not wake any memories, this kiss was not familiar to him as Rin's own, it was sheer luck and long practice that allowed him to slip into a rhythm that had Haruka gasping against his mouth in a matter of seconds-

All of these were lies, but for the life of him Mako didn't know _why_. So he quieted the nagging whispers his ears could almost hear, refocused his thoughts so as not to 'see' whatever it was his mind sought to bring to the forefront and ignored the churning in his gut that warned him he had miscalculated. There was no logic to it, no reason, and he was above all a rational man not given to superstition.

He pulled away at the last moment to catch Haruka's eyes, wide open and caught on his own, still snapping with frustration and need as sharp as any knife. Mako knew the look, felt it reflected on his own face twofold.

 _Damn_ this man and whatever it was in him Mako could almost feel himself reaching to touch. Even when his own release finally took him, it provided no relief; he still lay face to face with Haruka, his _thrice-damned_ enemy, wondering if this bone-deep sense of dread would ever leave him again or if he should accustom himself to it, both the fear and the _want._ Never had he moved quicker to right himself, releasing the bonds on Haruka's hands as though he wasn't still panting with need, as if _both_ of them were not dazed at the enormity of what had happened.

It was nothing. Should have been nothing. Would have been nothing if he did not simultaneously feel the need to get the hell out of the infirmary _and_ run his hands over every inch of bare flesh to seek out old scars and new injuries. He stepped away, putting a veritable gulf of distance between them. He would find Rin. Rin was his anchor, Rin could soothe him, make him forget the baseless anxiety of ignorance.

Find Rin, throw himself into preparations for the battle to come. Whatever business this was with Haruka he could sort out when the ship was safe. A word in Rin's ear and the man could easily be demoted from erstwhile ally to prisoner again. Mako had noted Rin's interest, and it would only be piqued if he found how skittish an hour alone in his company had made unshakable Mako.

Training made him seem calm. Training made him lean down to meet Haruka's eyes, twining a rough hand in his hair to tilt his head back. "I must speak with my captain, whether I truss you like a bird or only lock the door depends on whether you can convince me in the space of a breath that you will be here when I return."

Voice steady, breathing even, grip firm; his courage was returning by leaps and bounds and with it his sense of deviltry.

Haruka's voice, when he finally spoke after measuring his words for what seemed an eternity, hitched only slightly. "I will wait."

 _Truth._ Mako released his grip, pointedly turning his back and striding from the room as nonchalantly as he could manage. He needed to find Rin and relay the news… and see about obtaining the captain's permission to keep a pet. Rin had promised him one, after all, though most were not so high maintenance.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Haruka waited until the door had slammed to before allowing the shivering to take him. His teeth chattered uncontrollably but he wasn't remotely cold. His skin still felt too hot, stretched thin over something it wasn't meant to contain and what pitiful release that sadist had allowed him only left a hollow ache of twisting lust in his gut. He felt ill, feverish and dizzy, enough so that he was actually grateful to have been denied rations the night before. Had there been anything for his stomach to reject, Haru had no illusions he could have held it down.

This was wrong; he was off kilter. Anger had been replaced in an instant with a sharp curiosity, one that had goaded him into agreeing to stay when the merest minute before he could taste his freedom on his tongue. What was more, he wanted to. Had Mako actually attempted to release him, Haru was sure he would have turned violent. He wanted to unravel them, _all_ of them. Take the skin from their bones and see what it was that had his skin prickling with unnatural awareness when Mako's lips had first touched his. He wanted to know if the captain's touch would provoke that same sense of… division. Of being something other than himself, a spectator to a macabre show. He wanted to make the surgeon weep for fear and the playful marksman fall silent _for once_.

Rage simmered in his veins, not at his plight because now he had chosen the path he was going to take and laid the snares along the way for his foes, but an absolute conviction that he would not be left without recourse again. Despair was swift to follow, leeching the spark from his eyes and leaving them once again the dark blue of the abyss. What he had to despair for when success was finally within his reach Haruka couldn't say, but he pressed the feeling aside for careful examination later, turning his attention to the infirmary and gleaning what he could of the surgeon from it.

To conquer, divide. Set them at each other's throats: the first mate against captain, healer against soldier, crew against their betters. By the time they reached Sanctuary it would be no haven at all. Then Haru could collect his broken pieces, the few that had caught his eye, and see what new use could be made of them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update-04/16: And it is still coming. I tore up two drafts but the third was the charm. 6000 words in and potentially another 5000 more before the chapter is finished. Will definitely be updated before we hit the year mark. ^.^;


	14. An Ill Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sei faces a dilemma, Rin finds a solution, Mako finds his resolve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much tissue thin plot. So much. And all to get three people into bed, geez. 9800 words, I kid you not. And if the plot does not interest you, skip to the last 500 words or so where the dub-con vibes are kicking in.
> 
> Why no smut? Because then the chapter would have been 14000 words, and I wouldn't subject anyone to anything less than a pure smut chapter after almost a whole year's wait.

Seijuro could feel his crew growing restless, nerves stretched to the breaking point with excitement and fear. It was a testament to their discipline that they were not howling for his head on a platter. The _Samenoe_ was well within range of their cannons, had been for some time now. Every man aboard knew it, every man aboard wondered privately why the captain hesitated.

Half of the answer was in the galley, up to her elbows in water and lye, hands trembling with eagerness- it was a miracle she had only dropped one pan and not every one of their limited supply of dishes. Sei had placed her there by design, unable to bear another moment of her hopeful looks and nigh constant questions. Kou thought this reunion would be a joyous one: her prodigal brother welcomed back into the fold. That was a privilege money and rank might have bought him once, but the influence of the Matsuoka clan was not so great that they could save their heir from prosecution. Likely even execution.

The thought did not trouble Sei particularly, at least not for Rin's sake. For Kou, though… whether she knew it or not he had been a hairbreadth away from calling off the search before he had spotted the tell-tale markings of the _Samenoe_ through his spyglass. Sei knew his duty, and it trumped even his growing fondness for the bold woman still gamely playing at being cabin boy. Any other lady would have given up by now, demanded better quarters and finer clothes, an immediate return home if she had dared to stow away aboard the ship at all.

Matsuoka Kou was made of sterner stuff. After so long at sea, her hair had been bleached by sun and her skin bronzed by its unforgiving rays. Her hands had lines of work and rough patches that would catch on the soft gowns she should have been wearing. She had to know that even if she succeeded in finding her brother, her return would be greeted with incredulity and anger, her virtue called into question, somehow made less by her courage in the eyes of her peers.

For the sake of that courage, he had hesitated to order the destruction of the ship.

And if he killed the heir to the Matsuoka clan, their collective wrath would fall on his head as well. It was this consideration that had so far silenced the discontented murmurings of his crew. If Rin were not taken alive, their careers would be over, any opportunity for advancement suddenly and irrevocably snatched away. Not one of them wanted to chance it, bad enough that they harbored a woman aboard their ship, they would not welcome any more such misfortunes.

"We could turn back. We're out of imperial waters, our writ doesn't extend this far."

"Momotarou." Sei greeted softly, still drifting in his thoughts. He had considered turning back more than once, but with the _Samenoe_ in view he could not justify it in his heart.

An opportunity like this could be years in coming once more. Years in which Rin and his crew would wreak a merry havoc on anyone and everyone they happened across. Their piracy had not been restricted solely to civilian vessels, even the imperial navy had suffered losses at their hands. How then could he justify their escape now?

"We can't turn back now. It's drifting. We won't have a chance like this again."

Momotarou stepped forward to lounge beside him, sighing heavily. They were much alike, his brother and he, but Momotarou had ever been more concerned with the letter of the law. And the letter of the law said plainly it was their duty to return to the mainland and report their findings.

"Finish the job and blast them out of the water, why don't you." He growled in frustration, grimacing at the words that fell so easily from his tongue.

"And alienate the Matsuokas?"

"He's a pirate, they've declared him anathema."

"That's only a word, blood runs thicker. If we kill Rin now, they will suddenly remember that he is their beloved heir. Reparations will have to be made, likely beginning with grounding us."

"Then it's settled, we turn back."

"It's _not_ settled."

"It is. If you're not willing to take this to its natural conclusion then the only alternative is to turn back. The crew won't be happy, but they would like it even less if we told them they were cannon fodder so we could bring back one man. None of them want a direct confrontation. Ergo, we must make use of the cannons- _which are there for this specific purpose_ \- or turn back."

Sei's lips thinned with displeasure. They were so damn _close_. He couldn't admit defeat now, it wasn't in him. Yet he had no authority outside of imperial waters, thus no authority to compel his crew to follow him. They were not so fond of him as to risk a court-martial, not without the promise of significant reward. Perhaps he could claim that Rin's ship was low in the water because it was laden with pirate gold. But that would be easily disproved once the battle was won. If he goaded his men into battle on such a frail excuse, they would mutiny. Imperial law would not stretch far enough to protect him from it.

"I could ask for volunteers. Put into the nearest port, outfit a faster ship; we could run him down again."

"By that time he will have reached a haven, and Kou will be forced to stow away all over again." Momotarou's smile was warm enough to send a spike of sudden and unexpected jealousy coursing through Sei's veins.

Momotarou had made no secret of his fondness for her, but seeing it so plainly displayed for all to see angered Sei for reasons he hardly dared to contemplate.

It was he that had discovered her, his quarters she slept in, him that she teased and cajoled at every opportunity- Kou had, quite simply, fascinated him. It should not have shocked him at all to find that his brother shared his liking for her, but it did. And he should not have been contemplating bloodying his own brother's nose over it, but he was.

He was a better man than this. He was a better _captain_ than this, which only went to show he had been far too long out of civilized company.

Sei very pointedly turned his back on his brother, on his first mate and closest friend. "Unless you have another ship to hand, I have no choice but to push them onward."

Momotarou shook his head slowly, but he saluted nevertheless: "Aye, captain. Be it on your head."

"What's on his head?"

Kou's cheerful voice made them both leap with surprise, though Sei was marginally quicker to regain his composure.

"The weight of rank." He called back, taking in her neat appearance.

After working all through supper in the galley, scrubbing the dishes and the floor, helping the cook wherever he needed a hand, she should have been sweaty, disheveled and pining for a bath. It was clear that she had been at pains to tidy up: the dress she wore he had only seen once, that first night when he stumbled across her in the hold. Her hair was pulled back with one of Seijuro's own ties, she had taken a brush to it until it nearly shone, and if she still wore her boots, they were at least blackened and polished the way he had taught her. It was enough to rob him of words for all of a moment.

Momotarou leapt thoughtlessly into the void of silence: "You look beautiful."

Was it strictly treason if he tossed his mate into the sea and no one else was there to witness it?

"I don't want Rin to bark at me." She grimaced, absently tucking a stray strand behind a delicate ear.

Of course. She thought she would see her brother today. She had visions of them crying truce and discussing the matter like gentlemen with a bloodless surrender to follow. Momotarou shot him a speaking glance. As captain, that was his choice to make in theory, and to explain when he proved her wrong.

"You're dismissed." He murmured on a heavy breath, bracing himself for her tears and recriminations. This was going to be an ugly business, and he wanted no one else present for it. Hell, he would have handily wished himself away if it were possible.

His first mate vanished faster than the mist on a summer morning, leaving even less sign of his passing.

Seijuro drew himself to his full height, drawing an air of authority about him like a cloak- armor more like. "I hope you understand, miss, that this will not be a happy reunion."

"He is my brother. There is no ill will between us." She smiled, bright and quick, "Well, not too much anyway."

"You understand that piracy is a serious crime. Your brother commandeered a ship, attacked vessels bearing an imperial seal, he consorts with criminals and traitors-"

"But he is still my brother."

"He is a great deal more than that. If a plea for clemency is approved, he will still spend the remainder of his life rotting in prison. If it is not…"

She took his meaning very well, he could see it in the tightness of her jaw and the set of her feet. "You're tasked with catching him, not passing judgment."

"I am tasked with bringing him to justice, which you well know can mean anything from escorting him home to summary execution."

"You wouldn't." Kou choked, voice fading on the last word. For the first time she was plainly uncertain, fearful even. "You _wouldn't_." A plea this time, harsh and grating but nevertheless a plea for mercy.

"If Rin will not surrender, then I have no other choice."

"You said yourself we are outside imperial waters. We could turn back-"

"He's too close. If I let him go now, then any blood he sheds will be on my hands."

"And if you don't, then _Rin's_ will."

"Whether I catch him up today or in a year's time, the result will still be the same."

"This isn't…" Kou trailed off, wrapping her arms tightly about herself, shutting her eyes and shaking her head viciously. "You don't have to. You said his ship is damaged; he'll surrender. We'll take him home. My family has-"

"What do you imagine will happen to the men who sail with him? The brig is too small to hold even the half of them; even if we had the room, we do not have the supplies. He won't abandon them. No good captain would."

They stood in silence for a handful of moments, both looking toward the looming specter of the _Samenoe_ with the same expression of trepidation. Kou worried at her lip, uncaring that it cracked and bled; Sei considered offering his kerchief, but it was just as likely she would throw it back in his face and take herself off to the galley again. He clenched and unclenched his fists, glaring hatred at the ship across the water. Piracy had been a choice for Matsuoka Rin, no dire circumstance had pushed him to it, no more than a rampant sense of adventure and a taste for profit.

Sei hated him, hated him until it would have meant less than nothing to plunge a foot of steel into his chest but for the woman at his side.

"You have another idea or you would have readied the cannons by now." Kou spoke decisively, glancing over at him with something of her old exuberance. She trusted him more than she had a right. More than _he_ had a right.

"Momotarou has already laid out in painstaking detail the many ways in which it is impractical."

"But you _do_ have a plan." Her smile had returned, no shade of hesitance or doubt to haunt it. He was hardly required to explain himself to a cabin _girl_ , even one born of merchant blood, but that smile promised forgiveness and he was helpless to resist.

"My crew is uneasy. They dislike venturing beyond our writ. If we return to the mainland, I can commission another ship- one that does not fly the colors- and return. The _Samenoe_ will have to put into port for repairs and there are very few places a corsair's profit would be welcome. Assuming a fair wind and tide it will still take days for them to reach safe harbor, and days beyond that before she's fit for sailing again. If I had a fast ship and a small crew, I could abduct him and his officers. We could have them back in imperial waters and subject to our laws in a handful of days. Beyond that, it would become a matter for the court."

Kou's slender hand clamped his forearm in a vice-grip, made strong during her time at see. "Please. Please do it. Bring him home and leave the court to the court."

"It would take time, and the moment we make shore you will be escorted back to your home if you are not arrested for impersonating a member of the navy. I will have to answer for my conduct with regards to you."

"There has to be another way, dammit." She bit out, glaring out toward the _Samenoe_ again. For once, Sei didn't have the heart to reproach her.

They stood in silence for a few moments more, Kou grinding her teeth just loud enough for him to hear. His first inclination was to offer her an apology, his second to offer comfort; the first went against his training, and the second might well be taken as an insult. Treading dangerous waters and acutely aware of it, he stepped back to gather her hair up in his hands, pulling the tie loose with an artless flourish.

Kou's hand flew back to clamp over his own, annoyance and curiosity mingled in equal measure when she spoke: " _What_ are you doing?"

"Your tie was uneven. It would reflect rather poorly on me as a captain if I allowed you to wander around all askew."

Slowly her hand fell away, but he couldn't be sure whether it was his proximity or only a passing fancy that made it seem as though her shoulders had tensed and squared.

"Well?" She asked, flicking him an impatient glance from the corner of her eye. "Are you going to show me how it's tied?"

"Watch your tone." He muffled a curse, reminded again of everything else he had asked from her in such a short space of time. He thought he caught the faintest sign of an apologetic frown, just before she shrugged. If it wasn't quite standard protocol for an acknowledgment, he chose to overlook it just this once.

Finally his blasted fingers managed the knot; he indulged himself a second longer, combing his fingers through her hair until it was some semblance of arranged again. The dock master would likely demand it be cut when they returned, and sent home with her as a symbol of her shame. Sei would have laid his best saber she would carry it like a badge of pride; he would likely mourn its loss more than she.

"It's straight."

"I don't suppose it matters if I'm not seeing Rin."

And just like that their entente crumpled once more.

Sei thought carefully on his next words, weighing each one in the balance of conscience and duty before he dared to speak. "I give you my word, Matsuoka Kou, if I can both serve justice and take your brother alive, it will be done." It was the only vow he could bring himself to honor, but she seemed to draw some frail comfort from it, releasing a breath neither one of them had realized she had been holding.

The next moment her eyes snapped open as she turned to gape open-mouthed. "You called me Kou."

"Was I mistaken?"

"I've been _begging_ you to call me Kou since we first met and _now_ you finally-"

"It is a lady's name, and today you finally look half a lady." Even grave as circumstances were, he couldn't quite keep a teasing smile from his lips in the face of her indignant incredulity.

"A dress and a hair tie makes me half a lady?" She snorted, giving the lie to his words.

He hummed noncommittally as he finally turned back toward the deck and his cabin. The first matter would be determining which port could most swiftly ready a ship, the second would be deciding exactly what they must do with their interloper, and the third would be selecting his crew. Sei knew what might be required of him, but he wasn't willing to concede defeat just yet.

Kou jogged after him, swearing under her breath as the heavy boots tangled in her skirts, "Wait a moment. Do you have a plan? May I hear it? I can help."

She caught him up easily to twine an arm through his, the perfect mockery of the courtly manners her family had doubtless been at such pains to teach her. Sei took all of a second to consider it; she was Rin's sister, after all, perhaps the one who knew him best. It was as much her future at stake as his.

"If you promise to keep your own counsel until I specifically request you do otherwise." _That_ would be the day, but he could see by her determined nod she meant to try. He slowed his steps to match her stride, and together they made their way to the anteroom off his quarters. The war room, now.

 

 

 

Momotarou was waiting for them, hands clasped behind his back and legs spread in the 'at ease' position. He snapped to attention the moment Sei crossed the threshold.

Kou glanced around in confusion. It was rare that he relied on ceremony unless members of the crew were present. A hollow maw opened in the pit of her stomach, Kou was quite certain she could feel her heart falling into it. This sudden formality could mean very bad news indeed- the maps on the wall had been altered, the dividing line between imperial waters and open ocean inked pointedly in red. Red ink was among the more expensive to mix, she knew, and seldom used for anything save official communication.

It was a declaration then, subtle but telling; the only objection a loyal crew would offer, but an objection nevertheless.

Seijurou had spotted it too. She could tell by the mildly disapproving gaze he had fixed on it. She knew his moods well after so long aboard the ship; he was vexed at seeing his good map defaced, but he would allow the small impertinence to pass. He was wise enough to know the crew's objections could have been far more violent, and easily justifiable when the matter of a court-martial was raised.

Kou tightened her grip on his arm, drawing comfort from how steady he was, not so much as a twitch of unease.

"At ease, Momo. Did you have something for me?"

Still moving stiffly, looking more confused than anything, Momotarou proffered a thin sheet of paper, rolled so that it was no more than the length and thickness of Kou's littlest finger. She could tell from how the light shone through it that it was poor quality, less cloth than fiber. It crinkled when Sei took it, appearing impossibly delicate in his hand. He unrolled it with great care, face creased into a frown that was the perfect twin of his mate's.

"From the island?"

"It is the only explanation that makes any sense." Momo agreed, both of them thoroughly nonplussed.

A thousand questions raced behind Sei's eyes before he finally settled on one: "How did it arrive?"

Here Momo stifled a chuckle, obviously biting down on his cheek to keep from laughing. "A seagull, sir. There was some debate as to whether we should keep it in the galley or your quarters until you returned."

"Let the poor beast loose once we're done here. I want to see where it flies. I don't recall any settlements this far out."

"None." Momotarou confirmed. "The outermost edge of the island is in imperial waters, but we have staked no claim."

Kou desperately swallowed the questions that wanted to come bubbling up: What did the message say? Why did the island matter? Who would settle so far out? Why wouldn't it be claimed? Why should it matter to them? It was the purest form of torture being forced to watch and draw her own conclusions. _Obviously_ someone must have settled the island, else who would have sent the message? But if they had unlawfully settled, then why contact an imperial ship? She rose slowly on the balls of her feet, as much as the boots would allow, and tried reading the note.

Sei's quelling glance set her back down again, albeit not as quickly as he would have liked or as gracefully as she thought.

"I will need time to consider." He sighed deeply, shoulders bending under a new weight, "Take us in and drop anchor in the shallows."

"Sir?"

There was a hint of the devil's cunning in Sei's tone when he answered, enough to assure Kou that her brother was still at the forefront of his thoughts: "The _Samenoe_ is outside imperial waters, and drifting farther by the hour. You have said yourself the island's fringe falls within our purview. Of the two, an unauthorized settlement is a far more pressing matter."

Momo's face brightened as he snapped off a crisp salute, "Aye, sir."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Makoto struggled to keep his breathing even and soft, a thoroughly neutral expression painstakingly etched onto his face. Losing his temper now would only cost them valuable time, a commodity they had precious little of.

Rin toiled below him, fingers tarred black with pitch and a healthy sheen of sweat covering him from head to toe, a small drop trickling down from the fringe of his dampened hair to play across the line of his throat. Mako swallowed tightly, remembering the salty tang of Haru's blood on his tongue. Not that Rin had evinced the slightest interest in his errant thoughts, no- he was on a mad flight of fancy all his own. One that was going to see the whole crew butchered and its officers hanged, but only if they were very, very lucky.

"You are stubborn." He snapped, "And a fool. This ship is dead in the water, only your _sentiment_ keeps you from seeing that!" The unintended shout made them both jump, Mako's face instantly blushing with shame. How many years had it been since his temper had run anything but sharp and cold? Too long. Not long enough.

Rin was merciful enough to pretend he hadn't heard the manic edge of Mako's shout, but his words left them in no doubt who was in charge.

"I am the fool that commandeered this ship and the fool that is going to keep it. You're the fool that is going to help me." There was no heat in Rin's words, only a stark determination that set Mako's teeth on edge.

"Our only chance is to take what he offers. The _Samenoe_ is _crippled_ , Rin." Soft now, persuasive and reasonable. Rin was no land-bound whelp; he knew his craft and he knew the words for truth.

"She's not dead in the water, and I'll die before I leave her deck."

Mako drew a deep breath, another for good measure. "Not all of us share your convictions. I will not-"

"Will not what, Mako? Will not follow my orders?" Rin's tone had gone dangerously flat, a bite in the words that had not been there even a moment before.

"I did not think you would push me to mutiny." It was an empty threat. Tachibana Makoto, late of imperial intelligence, had never been in the habit of bandying empty threats or promises. He had traded on his reputation, and that included his promises. He was a shadow of the man he had been, and right when he most needed to be that man.

Rin laid aside his tools, flashing Mako an implacable stare. "If you leave now, Mako, I will hunt you down and kill you before the eyes of the crew that you deserted."

"So I may die now or I may die later." Whether Rin was truly resolved to do it, whether he could, neither one of them questioned. The headstrong boy had grown into an implacable man, and betrayal was among the only sins he could not forgive. Almost Mako was tempted to accept the challenge, if only for a taste of his halcyon days. But there were too many memories between them now, too much blood spilt and secrets shared- they were full up of death, Rin and he.

And Rin was _his_. He could never take the chance of placing this man's life in another's hands, not when it had been in his sole possession for so very long. Then he would truly be lost.

"I don't suppose you have a plan?"

"I do, and I will need your help to accomplish it."

 

 

 

 

Nitori swore softly to himself as he wove the tiller line, rough fibers abrading his delicate skin. His hands were not meant for this work, but his fingers were quick and nimble. They were dead in the water, set adrift at the mercy of the currents with hostiles on either side. Why they were even bothering with cursory repairs eluded him, but so long as it kept his hands from becoming idle he was willing to do the work. It kept him from dwelling too long on the intrusive thoughts plucking at the corner of his mind.

Seijuro would board in short order, Sei who knew him for what he was: a killer, fraud, a disgrace to his profession and yet the pinnacle of its achievement. They would haul him down to the brig again, with the wet and the rot and the dying things. Only until they made land, until he had grown so used to the darkness that the merest sliver of sunlight would punish his eyes and singe his skin. He had survived it once, and he would again. This time there would be no Rin to save him. No tap of boots on deck or the haunting chorus of agonized screams, the taint of gunpowder in the air or that breathless moment when he had heard the deafening click of the key in the lock-

He wove faster. If they could only repair this line, they might yet be saved. A bit of rope and a thoroughly undeserved miracle was all he needed. An infernal bargain, more like.

The creak of the door's hinges was nearly enough to send him leaping out of his skin, wide eyes flying up to meet the demanding gaze of his captain.

"Is it finished?"

Rin was alone, without the shadow of his first-mate dogging his footsteps. Nitori took solace in that. If the ship were truly in crisis, nothing would have separated them. That Makoto was not here meant he was hatching schemes elsewhere. There _was_ a chance, however frail, that his nightmarish thoughts would not come to be.

"Almost."

Rin tugged the rope from his hands, unheeding of a hiss of pain. "It'll have to do. We don't have time for perfection."

Nitori smiled grimly, glancing at the stray fibers and the fraying at the edges- his work was a far cry from 'perfect'. "We have a chance then, captain?"

"We've been in worse spots than this." Rin strode out without so much as a by-your-leave, eyes fixed on something only he could see- Nitori hoped it was a solution. But he could not fail to notice Rin had not given him an answer.

 

 

 

Makoto waited on deck, already stripped down to his trousers, face painted with lines of concern. Uncertainty did not suit him well, Rin thought, but he felt an answering frown creasing his own brow. If this didn't work, and he knew in his heart of hearts there was only the frailest of chances it would, he would personally execute Nanase Haruka before going to his own watery grave.

"Their sails are tacked against the wind." Mako's voice rang out, puzzled and deeply suspicious.

Rin glanced back, wetting his dry throat with a labored swallow. He could see the _Samezuka_ clearly without his spy glass, near enough that he fancied he could see the crew darting about the deck. Easily near enough to tear a cannonball-sized hole in his hull and send him straight to hell if Sei were of a mind to do so. That he hadn't fairly made Rin's skin crawl.

"I estimate six nautical miles, captain." Mako responded to his unspoken thought without prompting. "Under an hour."

Rin turned back, taking in Mako's slightly pale face, the minute trembling of his hands and the unforgiving grip he had on their makeshift tiller line. After all his promises, Makoto had been forced to swim deep waters not more than a day ago, and now again Rin was forced to demand it of him. Worse, he would have to work beneath the ship where the sun's light would not penetrate. In the cold and the darkness, Rin wondered briefly if he might not lose his mind.

This was the only way. As captain, he needed to be a visible presence aboard his ship, as much a commander as a figurehead. Nagisa was doubtless preparing their fire-shot and gunpowder, Rei was the best swordmaster aboard and sorely needed in the armory if a pitched battle was at all a possibility. There were simply no other men he could trust, and for all his fear of the deep Makoto was among the strongest swimmers Rin had ever met short of himself. Perhaps better than since he had been so long out of practice.

"What are you dragging your feet for? Be quick. I'll watch for you."

Makoto's reckless smile was forced. Rin had never been an interrogator, but after having kept one for so long he knew something of reading men's faces. The fact that Mako had even bothered with the effort of a show of bravado was nevertheless reassurance enough that he had made the right choice.

"I'll return shortly." He grasped the rope tightly, a final lifeline, and pushed himself over the edge to the water, Rin keeping close watch until he had at last submerged.

He glanced once more toward the _Samezuka_ with fingers clenching white on the wood. The only reason he could imagine them holding fire was to be certain he returned alive as an example. Sei was a law-abiding man, but he had served long enough as captain to know that the laws of the land could not cover every eventuality. He had served long enough to know that if a ship ventured beyond its writ and the crew kept its mouth shut, then it had never sailed beyond its writ.

Of course, he was also wise enough to know that someone always talked, and this far out at sea there would be no rescue if somehow the battle did not go in his favor.

If Makoto could repair the tiller line, if their cannons were ready and their weapons sharp, and if lady luck was at all smiling on them, they might yet make Sanctuary. For every minute Seijuro delayed, Rin felt his spirits rise that much more- mere hours out and they would be untouchable, well within the reach of the most fearsome king Sei's crew would ever cross- one who took a very dim view of anyone that brought conflict into his neutral territory regardless of their affiliation.

The water where Mako had submerged was perfectly still, only the lightest zephyr to disturb it. Rin kept his eyes locked to the spot, willing Mako to surface quickly.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Beneath the water, Makoto fought to keep from gasping mindlessly for air. He had forced himself to keep his eyes open, movements methodical and clean as he sliced through the surface and down, farther and farther until at last he was in the ship's shadow. The water about him was tinged the dark green of sea glass, sunlight fighting a losing battle against the depths. His mind scrambled for a calming thought, running through exercises ruthlessly drilled into him until his mental retreat became second nature.

He seized on the first convenient memory, something pleasant and still shockingly vivid even after all these years. The sounds and scents returned to him: a heavy incense in the air, silk clinging to his skin in the heat of a summer evening, a stranger's hands roaming over his exposed skin with more curiosity than finesse-

_The young man was clad ruffled finery, leaning against a tree just outside the brothel, impatience obviously riding him hard. His gaze followed every customer, eyes hungrily taking in every detail as though his life depended on it, and in this district that might well be the case._

_He was never still, fingers twitching or foot tapping, constantly adjusting his coat or brushing that unusual hair away from his face. Whenever he was approached though, he fell still. No movement save for the flick of his eyes and a careful adjustment of his weight. He was keenly watchful, but too arrogant by half to be nervous._

_Makoto tolerated the clumsy fumbling of the boy courting his favor, apparently blind to the fact that he had long since lost the attention of his companion. Tonight he was looking for something a little more daring fare than the brave innocents that occasionally wandered in the door after too much drink. In fact, Mako saw exactly what he wanted… and it was stubbornly remaining just outside his reach despite a come-hither smile all his suitors had assured him would be the downfall of any man. Or woman for that matter._

_So instead he greedily looked his fill._

_That coat was the latest fashion, obviously tailored to flatter every angle and line of a strong young body. The boy's pants were looser than the tight breeches brought over from the mainland, and gathered at his hips in such a way that they would not interfere with his movement. His hair was too long for a man of his age, but Mako would have gleefully killed anyone that offered to cut it for him; he wanted nothing so much as to run his fingers through those copper and flame strands, to twine his fist viciously in the beautiful locks and pull until at last he saw a flash of sensible fear in bright eyes._

_He would kiss the tears away of course, let his teeth linger a little too long as he lapped at a vulnerable throat, the threat plain but never spoken. He would never hurt the boy, no, that would be bad for business, and after so much practice he was finally learning to give pleasure without pain. Though some of his more distinguished clients had paid him handsomely for the privilege of forgetting his newly acquired inhibitions, and he found his encounters were never quite so satisfying without the merest edge of fear to spice them._

_That hair, though. It was pulled back carelessly with a tie, but it brushed his shoulders even so, lending him a rakish air not the least bit diminished by his respectable attire. He could take a lesson or two on the subject of humility, and it called to every ruthlessly suppressed instinct Makoto desperately sought to keep in check._

_Sensing he was under scrutiny, the man- no, boy, regardless of his age, turned back to lock eyes with Mako across the space between them._

_Mako had had an easier time catching his breath after being punched in the gut than he had breathing again after the boy looked away._

_To hell with pride, Mako was too intrigued by half to let a challenge like that pass unanswered. He shrugged out of the embrace of his patron, ever so carefully nudging him back in the direction of his friends with a few tactful words of refusal. The boy was too flustered to protest, and Mako was too impatient by half to waste his time soothing an inebriated manling's pride._

_He glided past the other patrons and out the door, adjusting his robe so it fell just so, showing off the line of his throat and enough of a tanned chest to catch anyone's fancy. His efforts were rewarded with a slightly longer glance, almost visibly pried away. So the lad was not unaffected after all._

"Isn't it a little lonely, to watch? Hadn't you rather join?" _Mako's voice was pitched just loud enough to carry, an even, melodic cadence._

 _The boy had a smirk on him that could have rivaled a fox for mischief._ "I was wondering how long it would take you to come out."

"Oh?" _Mako bridled at the implication that he had become predictable. Especially to some beardless whelp that didn't even have the spine to venture into such a tame den of iniquity. "And whatever made you think I would?"_

 _The boy pushed away from the tree, brushing a stray petal from his hair thoughtlessly; Mako's fingers twitched with envy._ "You were bored, and lonely."

 _Mako's laughter was clipped yet frantic. The boy was half right, and even that much was impressive for such an unschooled brat._ "You think so?"

 _He hummed, stalking forward until he was near enough that Mako could feel the warmth radiating from his body._ "I recognize the look. Matsuoka Rin, merchant."

 _"_ Merchant's apprentice." _Mako corrected, seeing the ink stains on his fingers, the tell-tale fraying of his cuffs. It warmed him, seeing the way the boy leapt at his words._

 _"_ How did you-"

"I recognize the look." _He gave in to temptation at last, reaching out to capture a strand of scarlet hair- like red strings of fate. The thought brought a whimsical smile to his face that Rin cautiously returned._

"I wouldn't have it said that our house allowed anyone to linger about feeling bored. Come in with me, I will entertain you personally."

"Without so much as a name-"

"Tachibana Makoto. Does that set you at ease?" _Here Rin would lose his nerve, make his excuses and flee. It would be days before he finally worked up the courage to accept what Mako offered. He was confident it would be worth the wait. Most pleasures were not diminished by anticipation, he found._

 _If anything, Rin's smile became sharper and the set of his shoulders more confident. Goosebumps raced along Mako's covered skin when Rin closed the distance between them, his last words coming on a breath of air-_ "Not in the slightest, but by all means-"

_He gestured to the house for all the world as though he were the one giving leave to enter. Delighted, intrigued, tempted, Mako allowed him the illusion. Anything to trick him past the threshold, and once inside bind Rin until he tired of him._

Mako understood now what it was that had pulled him so inexorably to Nanase Haruka.

Both encounters had left his fingers twitching with the need to _touch_ , both cravings underscored ever so slightly with bloodlust, a desire to see just how far he could take his game before it ceased to be pleasure.

It was their eyes, he thought. That look that said there was nothing in him that could shock them, no cruelty they could not match. It was in the way they held themselves, deliberately open and vulnerable, a taunt, a mute challenge Mako could not help but accept.

Rin was arrogance and ambition tempered with reticence and a guilelessness that alternately fascinated and infuriated him. Enough to make the man Mako had been want to _break_ him, see him despairing and so perfectly humbled the thought of healing, putting himself back together again piece by piece, would seem the gravest conceit. Rin was enough to make the man he was now want to tempt him into indulging the worst parts of his nature, the capriciousness and greed, the hedonistic lust for all things pleasurable.

To break him would be to tame him, and he wanted Rin as wild as he'd ever been, obstinate and proud. He saw those same qualities in Haru: the same unconscious defiance, the confidence that came of tasting defeat only rarely.

In some ways, he saw more of himself in Haru than he ever had in Rin. What had drawn him then was the magnetism of opposites, coolness to heat, night to day. In Haru he had witnessed the untempered cunning of a true amateur, the same unforgiving thirst that had driven Mako both to his greatest victories and his savage downfall.

At last he remembered: in three years of wandering, Rin and he had grown complacent, fat with success and bored with the ease of it. Now, all in the span of a few days, he could feel his own sense of ambition kindling again, old habits clamoring to be reborn. Chief among them this:

What he wanted, he took.

The darkness no longer discomfited him, and it was with a new enthusiasm that Makoto set about his work, swift and sure now that he had such pleasant thoughts for company. They would save this ship or die trying, and if all went according to plan, he would very soon be enjoying the company of Rin and Haru in his bed. There was no question of one without the other, and he had not mistaken the covetous look in Rin's eyes when he had first laid eyes on the man.

They would enjoy him together, and Mako had every faith they could persuade him to do the same, either through guile or force.

His task complete, Mako released the last of his breath and rose quickly to the surface, greedy for the air that poured into his lungs. His hands twined about the lifeline, giving a vicious tug before he finally began to haul himself bodily from the water, Rin pulling him in from above.

There was still work to be done, but provided they were still breathing come nightfall, nothing on earth or in hell was going to stop him enjoying the fruit of his labors.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"The fire-shot is in order, cannons checked and rechecked, what gunpowder I could salvage has been. It will have to be enough." Nagisa glared at the offending barrel of saltpeter. If some misshapen son-of-a-bitch hadn't carved a damn hole in their ship, he could have done a lot more. Nagisa took a vicious delight in knowing Rin had tossed the smug bastard to Mako. A few hours under their first mate's care was enough to send even the sanest of men howling.

"Rei?" He turned back, wondering at the lack of response to find his partner hunched over a rapier, inspecting his reflection in the cool steel as he honed the blade.

After all, Nagisa's work was done and surely he had a moment or two to spare just to watch his lover at work. Rei was an artist with a blade: no manner of fighter, but he knew the keeping of the tools of the trade. It was always a pleasure to watch him at his work. A small crease would appear just between his eyes, forehead furrowing with concentration only to clear when at last he felt the sharp, straight edge his hard work had brought forth.

Now his free hand was coated in oil, the other clutching a thoroughly soiled kerchief. The hot, close confines had left him with a light sheen of sweat, and his hurried attempts to wipe it away had left him with a stubborn cowlick held in place by the slick of oil.

Taken together, he made a very charming picture of earnestness. Nagisa wanted nothing so much as to _wreck_ it. He redirected his thoughts with an effort, reminding himself that there was a time and a place for his antics. Staring down death was neither the time nor the place. Or so Rin had been at great pains to teach him when he had first come aboard.

He sauntered over to Rei, choosing a saber and setting to work. He had never quite achieved the same level of skill as Rei, but he was as competent as the next man in the care and keeping of blades.

"How do you suppose Haruka is faring?" Nagisa nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected words. The edge of the blade caught his thumb, fortunately dull enough to leave only the smallest of cuts. He wiped it thoughtlessly on his shirt, wincing at the sting. Of all the things they needed to discuss, he settled on the most obvious topic. Nagisa supposed he should be grateful they weren't going to discuss their troublesome surgeon, but mostly he worried. If Rei was not speaking of it, that meant he was thinking on it.

Nagisa rallied, taking the bait. It was better than silence. "Far better than if Rin had given him to _me_ , I'll wager. I could use another target."

Rei's frown deepened, tinged with concern now.

"Have you forgotten that he tried to kill us? He captured us first! Whatever Mako does to him will still be less than he deserves."

'That could easily have been me not so many years ago."

"It couldn't. _I_ chose you."

Rei's silence was no kind of answer, but it wasn't a line of conversation they had time to pursue. The door flew open, Rin pausing just long enough on the threshold for his eyes to adjust to the dimness before he was barking orders in fine form.

"Rei, we need a navigator on deck. Set course for Sanctuary and keep an eye on the _Samezuka;_ she may be turning back."

The rapier dropped forgotten from Rei's hands as he sprinted out to the deck, already making for his favorite perch to confirm with his own eyes that it was true.

Nagisa lifted the rapier, moving it carefully to the pile of finished blades- this one's edge was a great deal sharper and he didn't fancy being cut.

"How is the armory coming?"

"The shot is prepared, captain. The cannons are stocked and ready. Most of the blades only need to be honed."

Rin nodded, inspecting his work briefly. "Don't ever let the armory sink into this state again, Nagisa. I'm adding its upkeep to your duties."

Nagisa glanced around with a low whistle. All of this, his domain? If nothing else, he owed Sei thanks for that. "Aye, captain."

"Carry on then. I want all hands armed and ready." He left Nagisa humming happily to himself, admiring his reflection in a polished blade as he honed the edge to perfection.

 

 

 

 _Unbelievable_. Rei set the spyglass aside for a moment, squinting into the distance with his naked eyes before lifting it again for another incredulous look into the distance. The _Samezuka_ had tacked her sails against the wind and was making for the shallows of the island. Not too near, of course, her weight made her ride low in the water and the ever-present danger of sandbars would keep her from drawing too near. The intent was there, though. Sei had abandoned his pursuit.

"What do you think? A few leagues out of imperial waters and turning back already. He is not so resolved as I thought." Rin was pleased, a blade-thin smile hovering about his lips. Tonight he would likely join the crew in the mess for a drink. A victory celebration to remind them that once more they had triumphed against seemingly impossible odds. Toasts and good humor would abound, a little of the tension in the atmosphere would dissolve…

And Rei would make his quiet way to the deck as soon as he could slip out to be sure the enemy ship had not drawn near in the night. He debated keeping this from Rin, considered what his foolishness had nearly cost them once before and changed his mind.

"I don't trust this. He may have turned back, but it's not like Sei to cut a fugitive loose once he has his scent. He's a law-abiding man, but not so much that he would not consider transgressing it for a good cause."

"Perhaps his crew did not feel the same." Rin was listening. Rei could see the consideration in his gaze, the slight tic in his smile that said he had been thinking the same thing and hoping to find someone that disagreed.

"The navy deals harshly with deserters and mutineers." He thought back to his early days aboard the _Samenoe:_ Nagisa's first 'target' strung up from a convenient line- mutineers were not welcome anywhere. The difference was, pirates couldn't be bothered to hunt down their crewman's families, if families they had.

" _I_ deal harshly with mutineers, yet we teetered on the knife's edge last night."

"As you say, captain."

"It would be a damn foolish ruse, and they can't be putting in for supplies."

"Have you considered that the island locals may have been settlers? They might be willing to offer their assistance then."

"Mako says they were unauthorized, likely indulging in a bit of piracy themselves."

"Then they have a ship?"

"A small one, not meant for deep waters. We needn't fear their pursuit."

It was settled. There was no need for the uneasy feeling gnawing at the back of his thoughts. Sei had only decided to turn back toward home; he would make his report and patrols would increase, but it would mean nothing to Rin and his crew as they would already be well out of bounds. It made sense, really. Yet every instinct gleaned from painstaking experience screamed at him that they hadn't seen the last of captain Mikoshiba. Even among the old-timers he had a reputation for being earnest. If he were more politically-minded, he might well have made a career for himself as an admiral.

A dragon was more likely to abandon its hoard than Sei abandon his pursuit. Which was why Rei continued to stand at his post long after Rin had tired of gloating at his side, even long enough to shrug away Nagisa's hand when he attempted to drag Rei to the mess for a celebratory toast. It would be many days yet before he was ready to concede they were well and clear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nitori was surprised and more than a little put-out to find his precious infirmary was still occupied. Worse, Makoto had left the little savage free to roam. He stood at Nitori's cabinet, a blue glass clenched delicately between two fingers, examining its viscous content curiously. Just as well he had not made bold enough to open it or it would have taken days to air out.

"Makoto loosened the leash, I see." There were _fingerprints_ on the glass doors of his cabinet, the sheets on the bed were thoroughly disarranged and doubtless reeked of saltwater. He thought there might be a scarlet dab of blood on the pillow.

Damnation. The whole room was tainted and he would have to spend his evening scrubbing it from top to bottom. He fixed a malevolent stare on Haruka, only now warily setting down the bottle and turning to face Nitori. _Nothing_ was as he had left it! What had he found? What had he guessed?

"I was expecting him back." Haruka offered cautiously, eying him like a dog might his next meal. If he dared to attack he would find his prey was tough as old leather to chew, and far more inventive in retaliation than such a small mind could conceive of.

"This is _my_ domain." Nitori shut the door at last, gliding across the room to throw open his pathetic excuse of a window. Not that the meager light was much help, but it gave him something to keep his hands from fidgeting.

Haruka glanced around pointedly, arching a brow and murmuring a dry "I gathered."

"What did you gather?"

Evidently the threat in his tone was plain; Haruka very slowly moved to put more space between them, careful not to turn his back.

"You are no kind of unschooled sawbones. You've been properly educated. Your bedsheets are neatly tucked, fitted as one would expect of a navy man. You've fallen far, though."

"One good turn deserves another, I suppose." Nitori circled about him warily, stripping the sheets from the bed to toss them to the floor. He would have to burn them, blood never washed clean. "I will tell you that your scheme did not work, but you knew that already."

Haru did not confirm or deny the statement with any telling gestures. More the pity.

"I will tell you that you came from the mainland, though no part that I know of. That I am not the only man aboard this ship unfortunate enough to have given years of my life to the imperial navy, nor yet the only man in this room."

Haruka's eyes narrowed, lips working as he ran his tongue along his teeth. A defensive gesture, one common to most predators. "Lastly, Nanase Haruka, I will tell you that if I know all this, there is no question but that my captain and his mate do too. I'm afraid you are not so cunning as you suppose."

Nitori smiled brightly, and he could almost see Haru muffle a full-bodied shudder of disgust and nerves at the expression. "And if my ears do not deceive me, I believe Makoto has come to tell you just that."

His timing could not have been more perfect. A firm rap at the door was all the confirmation he needed. Makoto had come for his prisoner, doubtless to indulge in his own manner of victory celebration. Nitori could almost have pitied the man, but there was a quality to Haru's expression, something determined and not at all afraid, that told him he didn't have the right.

He turned his back on Haruka, ignoring the insistent prickle of the hair on his neck, and stepped aside to allow Mako entry. But it was Haru that moved first, striding across the room and brushing past both of them before Nitori had a chance to do more than tense for trouble. Makoto tipped him a smile and a wink before he turned to follow, and Nitori found he could pity Haru after all.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Rin was already chin-deep in a thoroughly extravagant bath when Mako slid through the door on the heels of his captive. With a week or less to restocking, it hardly mattered that he had made use of their supply, except that the gesture was so thoroughly unlike him Makoto knew it had to be a ploy. The sheer range of possibilities sent a delighted tremor racing through him; he licked his lips to hide a rather voracious smile.

The crew was belowdecks, celebrating with their grog and song, laughingly composing their own little ditties about the shortcomings of the foolish _Samezuka_ crew. Makoto had his own thoughts on that matter, but they would easily keep until morning. Were Rin and he not owed their own manner of celebration? After all, their greatest threat would remain here with them throughout the evening and night, no further mischief to wreak.

He was about to say as much to Haru, except that when he turned the man's gaze was reserved entirely for the water sloshing playfully in the tub. He appeared delighted, blue eyes wide and inquisitive, mouth curving with the sort of anticipation Mako saved for particularly satisfying sex. It took no more than a second to confirm Rin's thoughts had wandered in precisely the same direction.

Rin propped his chin on the edge of the tub, arms dangling freely over the side. It was a small brass affair, more the pity- room enough for one. Two if one of them was riding the other's cock.

"Was he still waiting for you?"

"Exactly where I left him," Mako confirmed, shoving Haru roughly into the cabin and bolting the door behind him.

Haru caught himself before he fell to his knees, slanting a knowing glance first at Rin and then back to Mako. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife; men of the world as they were, each of them knew a silence like this only resolved itself one of two ways: a fight or a fuck. Mako wasn't sure which of the two he more craved, but Rin's preferences were plain. It was only fair, after all, Mako had taken his turn to dabble.

Rin stretched languidly, the skin of his back just breaking the surface of the water. "I didn't have him pegged for a cautious man."

"Captain of the ship and still frightened to address a prisoner directly? I didn't take you for a timid man."

Rin's eyes fixed on him, narrowed and dangerous. Mako sighed quietly; Rin had never been particularly adept at swallowing his own medicine. The shift from playfully indulgent to mercilessly demanding was visible in the very set of his shoulders. Of course, Haru wouldn't know that. He did not have the years of experience that Mako prided himself on.

"I'm done with the bath, Mako, our prisoner needs it more, I think."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After most of a year three days doesn't sound so bad, right?
> 
> I'm editing and tweaking the next chapter- which is code for adding more porn because it makes me happy- meaning it will be posted no later than Thursday. If you are quietly laughing to yourself and/or swearing at me, I get you. :P
> 
> But this time I'm serious. I just have a speech to deliver Wednesday, and the last time I delivered a speech while plotting a smut chapter (last Wednesday) it reeeallly didn't go well.
> 
> Also adding a desperately overdue tag...


	15. In Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure smut. Nearly 10,000 words of it.

"I'm done with the bath, Mako, our prisoner needs it more, I think."

Haruka stiffened imperceptibly, locking eyes with Rin as the captain rose from the tub, entirely unselfconscious in his nudity and the beginnings of arousal. He couldn't quite stop himself from staring- even the skin usually hidden beneath cloth was only slightly lighter, still with that tempting glow of amber made all the more apparent by the water sluicing off his form.

Water. Haru's eyes locked on the tub with longing. He reeked of salt and ash, stale sweat and the lingering scent of sex still clung doggedly to him. He didn't give a damn what they meant to do with him, couldn't be bothered to care that both were watching him like eagles- he obligingly began to disrobe, ignoring Mako's smug chuckle and Rin's unbridled laughter. He knew once he sank into the water, once he felt his skin finally coming clean it would clear his head. He would decide then what tack to take.

He crossed the room with graceful, unaffected strides, lowering himself into the steaming water with no care for his skin. It stung, abrading a thousand little cuts he hadn't even realized were there, scalding his skin with its heat. It was a cleansing heat, a comfort. He dipped below the surface for a moment, holding his breath and allowing the water to envelope him in its silent embrace. Haru wanted nothing so much as to scrub his skin raw and leave it here, along with all his memories of the damn fiasco.

It was exceedingly plain neither Rin nor Mako were inclined to let him do so. He would have wagered the last of his own loot they meant to engrave some memento of themselves, of his foolish pride, right into the marrow of his bones. A rough hand fisted in his hair, yanking him pitilessly out of his thoughts, forcing him to meet the freezing air and draw a pained breath. He opened his eyes, glaring defiance at the man that had dared to lay hands on him again, only it was not Mako's placid eyes that greeted him, but Rin's disbelieving glare.

"Don't think for a second I will allow you to drown yourself, Haruka."

Now it was his turn to laugh, loud and mockingly, "You're not so fearsome as that."

For all his brave words, Haru couldn't muster a smirk to accompany them. He settled for meeting Rin's eyes dead-on and refusing to be the first to look away.

Rin's grip in his hair tightened, but Haru only leaned into it, trying not to betray his unease at being forced to bare a vulnerable throat. He had no doubt but that if Rin spoke a word, Mako would toss him a knife and their little game would be over in a matter of seconds. It was in his interest to play along, to amuse as best he could. Miho would come for him, and he was not entirely friendless in Sanctuary. He could wait. He could.

Something in his gaze must have betrayed him because Rin's fingers slowly disentangled from his hair, drifting through it with a thoughtless caress before he stepped back. There was no softness in the gesture, only an absolute certainty of victory. The last of Haruka's reservations disappeared; had he not indulged his interrogator earlier? Had he not been the one to instill that briefest flash of terror in the man's eyes?

 _Hadn't he even enjoyed it?_ Whispered a voice in the back of his thoughts, a predatory edge to it. Haruka became aware of his breathing, the shallow, jagged edge to his panting breaths. He was nervous, yes, but there was a shiver of excitement spreading through him, setting his skin to prickling with awareness, every heartbeat sounding impossibly loud in his ears- suddenly even the water lapping at his flesh was almost too much sensation.

He didn't even flinch as their frankly assessing gazes took in the sight he made: all gleaming wet skin and banked ferocity.

Makoto broke the silence as Haru had known he would, sauntering over carelessly to swirl his fingers in the water, flicking it playfully at Rin. They exchanged a knowing smile, Rin sinking bonelessly to the floor while Mako slipped behind him. It took all of Haru's considerable will not to follow the man with his eyes.

"You seem rather relaxed for a man so…vulnerable." Rin gestured vaguely to his form, yet there was no room for misinterpreting him.

Haruka had just opened his mouth to respond when a vicious shove forced him beneath the water once more. His lungs seized at the sudden influx of water, gut clenching with the need to breathe and muscles seizing with the effort to prevent exactly that. The warm water was no longer a comfort but a prison when two sets of hands joined to still his struggles, uncaring of his distress until a last bubble of air escaped him.

Mako hauled him up, gasping and sputtering while he coughed up water. He clamped his eyes shut against the burn of fresh air entering his lungs for the first time in a little over a minute.

Then Rin's lips were on his and he was drowning all over again, unable to draw in the oxygen he still desperately craved, unable even to wriggle away with Mako's weight pressing into his back and shoulders, threatening to submerge him once more if he so much as twitched in the wrong direction. He lashed out, sinking his nails into the soft skin at the join of Rin's neck and shoulder, tearing until he felt it give beneath his assault. Rin retaliated with a vicious nip, the tang of copper filling his mouth, its familiar taste soothing him for all of a second.

When Rin finally pulled away, he nearly sobbed with relief. Tears of effort had beaded at the corner of his eyes; Haru gave up the fight and let them fall, too busy regaining his breath to care.

"There now, that's better." Makoto whispered into the curve of his ear, thumbing away the tears as he pressed a kiss laden with a mockery of tenderness to the skin at the base of his neck. "I think we understand each other now."

"I think so." Haru ground out, eying the bloody scratches he had left on Rin's skin. An unexpected bolt of pleasure shot through him at the sight; they could play their games tonight, but Haru intended to be sure none of them were left unscathed. "But just to be certain-"

Rin didn't so much as flinch when his hand shot out to clamp on that spot, pulling him just over the edge of the tub to sink his teeth just there- laving at the scratches with his own tongue. They each had a taste of the other's blood now, and if Rin believed as he did- that the life of a man resided in his blood- then they both knew exactly where the other stood.

"You will want to be very careful what you do next." Mako hissed, and Haru was thoroughly unsurprised to feel the pressure of a blade's edge at his throat. He allowed himself to be pulled away, settling back into the water as though it had been his own idea. They had thought to turn his own element against him, but even now Haru could draw courage from it.

"Easy, Mako. He's only playing."

"So am I." Mako shot back, a smile lighting his voice. Haru twitched violently, but didn't turn. Just. The blade left his throat to glide across his collarbone, down the slope of his shoulder. He arched at the touch of its tip on his spine, tracing down the skin just hard enough to leave a thin welt. "I'm only suggesting he play a little safer."

 

 

 

Makoto wet his dry lips, entranced by the way the muscles in Haru's back leapt at the touch of cool steel. It must be torture, caught between the ice of the blade and the punishing heat of the water. Bad enough to be subjected to the openly hungry eyes of his captors- yet that hadn't fazed him in the slightest. Their laughter had, though, Mako saw it in the angry red stains on his cheeks as he sank down into the bath. An amateur, but with training Mako knew he would find a jewel in the rough.

All that remained was to convince Rin they needed to keep him. It wouldn't take much convincing, he could see. Rin had thrilled to Haru's touch, even as the hellion cut and bit him- he had a taste for the more agonizing pleasures. Timidity in his partners had never appealed to him, and too much gentleness soon lost its savor. This would be a treat for both of them.

He kept a close eye on them as he made his way to the small cabinet where they kept most of their supplies: a cloth, new soap untainted with harsh lye to avoid abrading such delicate skin… he hesitated when his fingertips drifted over the oil, but there was no use pretending this wasn't going to end in a bed. Or perhaps the floor. Hell, even the bath looked tempting. The knowledge was gleaming there in Haru's eyes, daring him to follow through on every threat and promise of their interrogation.

It was there in the curve of Rin's back, effortlessly sensual and daring Haru to follow the line of it with his eyes. He wanted to touch, Mako could see that much, but he didn't want to be touched. So much of his vaunted power had already been stolen from him, he had been pushed and prodded past all endurance. That wouldn't do, not if Mako wanted to keep him, not if he wanted to make him the masterpiece he was meant to be.

While he debated, Haru sank farther down into the tub, scrubbing viciously at his skin, nearly tearing his hair out with his scrubbing. Rin watched him with the sort of half-rapt, half-bemused indulgence he saved for some of Nitori's more unusual specimens. A wicked smile stole across his face when he caught Mako watching them; they had tried this particular hobby before, though Rin had always nominated himself for the position of voyeur rather than centerpiece. Rin needed his illusion of control as desperately as Haruka did. It was half the reason the sight of them together was so breath-taking.

A new thought came to Mako then. One he wasn't at all sure his partner would approve of. Rin might skin him for it. Rin might plead for more even as he hauled Mako down to the very darkest cell in the brig.

But as he watched them, both so clearly fighting an impulse to reach out and touch, to inflict pleasure so sharp it was pain or perhaps vice versa, he knew it was the right choice. It was the only choice that would end with Haru staying to accept his tutelage. The only choice where Haru might one day cease to resent them for ever having been his captors.

They would share Rin, Haru and he. Makoto would teach him that first lesson of tearing a man apart piece by piece in the most captivating way possible. He would lay all Rin's secrets bare for Haru to feast on, giving him back that control he so dearly craved. And because Haru was so like Mako himself, he could not fail to be captivated. Even just for the space of the night. That was all it would take to plant the first seed of lust in him, just that little taste of the forbidden.

Mako stood quickly, fastening the latch with a flick of his wrist. Rin's eyes brightened at the sight of the oil, growing hooded when he saw the soap and cloth. He couldn't let Haru have all of Rin, naturally, that was reserved for himself. So this task they would share, just to get Rin used to the idea of Haru's skin against his own, so he could see what his touch did to his erstwhile captive. Then he would make his move. If all went according to plan, Rin would forgive him- even thank him- very soon.

 

 

 

Rin wasn't at all sure he cared for the tilt of Mako's smile; it was an expression he had not seen in years, not since that first night in the pleasure district when he had so blithely presumed himself the predator and become the prey instead. It was a cherished memory now, but it had also been his most valuable lesson in not judging a man by his appearance. That smile said Mako had devised a new game, one whose rules he did not mean to share. Plainly this was to be Rin's punishment for ever allowing his first mate the luxury of boredom.

No matter, tonight Haru would take the edge off.

Looking at him now, Rin had to swallow down an unexpected lump of guilt. When Mako had first approached him with the idea of sharing the islander, he had been delighted. There was no question but that the man was beautiful- he had thoroughly captured their fickle imaginations during that first encounter, and seeing him after the fire- that wild, spiteful look in his eye that reminded Rin so much of himself…

Now he languished in the bath as though entirely at his ease, paying them no more mind than if they had been his attendants- that was Makoto. It had been a pleasure to rock his composure for those few precious minutes, to see him panting and teary-eyed, struggling to understand what was happening when Rin had hauled him from the tub and kissed him. It had made him wonder what Haru would look like once they had their way with him. Desperate and unashamed? Poised and resistant?

This had been meant as a gift, both for Mako and himself. But whereas Rin was not a jealous man, he knew Mako was.

Rin had never equated sex to ownership, had never bothered himself with the details of Mako's profession or who his customers might have been. It was irrelevant so long as Mako still looked at him like he was the sun in the sky. If a bit of possessiveness had crept in every now and again he had sternly reminded himself that business and pleasure did not mix; wherever Mako was, he would rather have been at Rin's side. Their relationship had changed over the years- Rin had come to think of Mako as his. His first-mate, his lover, his partner in a thousand crimes.

No, he had never been a jealous man, but after so many years together he was fast becoming one.

Mako was a different matter. He had never liked anyone's eyes lingering too long on Rin. From their first night he had made it plain Rin was his to keep and anyone else that laid a finger on him without permission risked losing it. They had invited others to join them before, Rin had ever been forgiving of Mako's urges and enthusiastic in his participation, but he had known instinctively it was his place to watch. Never to touch or be touched. Mako thought he had learned to share his possessions, but the one time Rin had decided to join, Mako had pushed their partner past any boundary of sanity, and all for the crime of making Rin beg for his release.

If he had grown more jealous with time, he dreaded to think of what Mako might do.

For years they had only each other. Yet here he was, offering Haru like a gift for they two to share. And he did intend to share, even knowing the potential consequences. He wanted Haru, and had every intention of taking him. The guilt of it nagged at him; he had often been accused of being a selfish man, and tonight he was determined to prove it. Even if Mako found he still did not like sharing, Rin had no intention of turning away this offer. Not when it was everything he had wanted, not when his throat felt so parched that he wanted nothing so much as to lick the stray droplets from Haru's skin, not when his lips were still burning from the touch of Haru's lips against his own. His self-discipline simply was not equal to the task of self-denial.

He glanced back to Mako, taking in the flask of oil, the washing cloth and the soap- there it was, his excuse to touch.

Haru did not follow his gaze; Rin was beginning to find that basilisk stare unnerving. He regretted surrendering the shelter of the water now. He was painfully aware of his nakedness, his nearest weapon across the room just beneath his pillow, not a scrap to spare the modest streak he would have sworn was nonexistent but for the way he had to constantly fight the urge to hide himself. Through it all Haru watched him, and Rin had the sense there was very little those blue eyes missed.

For pity's sake! He had stared down Tachibana Makoto, even knowing who he was and what he had done, he had locked gazes with some of the most fearsome men and women to ever attempt a life at sea and never been the first to look away. But the mute accusation in Haruka's eyes was enough to have him curling away like a whelp fleeing its master's unforgiving boot.

"Something wrong, Matsuoka?"

Haru's voice broke the spell, and Rin could read the exact second he realized it had been a grave miscalculation to speak. The knowledge of his error was reflected in his gaze, as was the grudging return of his nervousness. It ratcheted up a notch when Mako knelt beside the tub, carefully laying out the tools of his trade. Interrogation chamber this was not, but Rin had seen him bring those same tricks into the bedroom a time or two. He looked forward to assisting tonight.

Their captive glanced over the edge of the tub with unabashed interest. Rin saw his expression stiffen for all of a moment before his eyes became cool unconcerned again. Rin reached over casually, plucking up the cloth to run it across the water suggestively. He nearly purred when Haru swallowed tightly, fingertips twitching with the stifled urge to pull the cloth from his hand.

"Aren't you going to join us, Mako?" Rin smiled, just enough of an invitation in it to show his preference.

Mako was surprisingly uncooperative. He shook his head, walking by Rin only to run playful fingers through his hair as he made his way to the bed. Rin gaped in disbelief before remembering the importance of a united front. It must never occur to Haruka that they had not planned this encounter down to the most minor of details.

"Not tonight. I'd rather watch."

It was Rin's turn to swallow dryly, muscles tensing with a spike of unease. This was something they had never attempted before, and much as the idea of playing with Haruka appealed to him, the idea of doing so alone was daunting. He wasn't ready for this.

He could imagine Mako's laugh if he confessed that. Matsuoka Rin had solicited a murderous whore the very day he had attained his majority. For months he had laid the groundwork for that first meeting, weaving together whispers of rumors and shreds of evidence until he was sure he had found the man he wanted. Years he had spent acquainting himself with his family's resources, expanding them with what pitiful influence he had over his mother. He had commandeered a ship before most men even married and taken to piracy like fish did to water.

Mako would never believe him. Neither would he admit it if this were not something he wanted. But this was what Rin had wanted, had he not a moment before decided he would have what he pleased? Now he panicked at the thought of it being dropped neatly in his lap.

"Well, Rin?" Haru whispered behind him, voice throaty with anticipation. He knew, damn him. He knew the beast they provoked and was delighting in Rin's discomfort.

Fair was fair, had their positions been reversed Rin had no doubt it would have been the same.

He turned back to Haru, acutely aware of Mako's gaze lingering on his bare skin, taking in his fill. He lifted the cloth, dripping warm water down Haru's exposed skin until his nipples beaded at the harsh contrast. Whatever his misgivings, Rin banished them from his thoughts. This was a night for indulgence, trepidation had no place here.

 

 

 

 

 

Haruka shivered at the first touch of the cloth against his skin; he had expected the rough texture of fiber, but it was soft as a lady's hands. Not that Rin wielded it at all gently, his touch was firm and unyielding, and much as Haru hated the thought, he thrilled to the roughness of it. He didn't flinch when Rin pinched a nipple hard enough to be a bite, he didn't pull away when Rin's hand trailed up his throat and pressed in mute threat. In fact, it delighted him precisely because it had so thoroughly discomfited Rin.

He could see the uncertainty reflected back at him in Rin's gold-token eyes, could feel his touch gradually becoming bolder. It didn't take the finest mind of the century to deduce this newfound shyness had something to do with the man casually reclining on the bed. It did not escape his attention that Mako had not so much as shifted once since Rin had first laid hands on him. He hardly even blinked, though Haru could see his breath was coming shallow and quick.

Every time Rin's hand dipped below the water to re-wet the cloth, his hands clenched slightly on his thighs, then he would visibly remind himself to relax. That devil-may-care smile would settle on his lips again, replacing the frown that nearly obscured it whenever Rin looked away too long.

Nearly three minutes Haruka had counted his heartbeats, counted the number of times Rin's eyes flicked toward Mako on the bed, how often he had allowed his bare skin to touch Haru's own. There was a direct correlation there- the more often Rin glanced at Mako, the less often he allowed himself to touch.

A jealous man then. One that did not like to see his toys playing together. Which beggared the question of why he had ever encouraged this- not that Haru was inclined to complain. The idea of having Mako's hands on him again so soon after their interrogation still sent a bolt of unease up his spine. Unease and the pleasure of remembrance, making it all the more disconcerting. He banished his thoughts, willing himself to focus on Rin again.

He counted fifteen freckles on those bare arms, two scars on his left shoulder that a saber could have made, a mark at the join of his shoulder and neck that might have been a bite though hardly a loving one. He found he could enjoy this with Rin touching him so carefully, obviously as nervous as he was. With a few words, Mako had unintentionally knocked the captain from his pedestal-

"Rin, use the jasmine scent."

Rin leapt at the sound of his name, sucking in a startled breath that Haru mirrored with unexpected sympathy. It had been no easy feat, being at Mako's mercy for even the span of an hour. How this man had accomplished it for years he could not imagine. The only possible conclusion he could draw was that somehow they had made themselves equals; he watched Rin with renewed interest when the captain grudgingly did as he was told, loathe to introduce any new variables to their circumstances.

Haruka didn't enjoy tampering with unpredictable predators either, but his body did not care who it was that touched him. He felt himself reacting to the stimulation anyway, color rising in his cheeks and spreading down his chest to pool low in his hips. Rin had to rise as he poured the jasmine soap into the tub, baring a body made fit and tanned after years at sea- Haru briefly considered pulling him into the water, but considering what his defiance had netted him last time…

But then, Rin's kiss had been far from unpleasant once his panic had faded. The fear had even lent an edge to the sensation he found he wanted again.

"You didn't finish your bath, Rin. Why not join him?"

Haruka shot an incredulous glance at their observer, suddenly impossibly hard and yet cold with apprehension. He knew. He read their interplay as easily as he did his charts, and was directing the pieces accordingly. They were no more than puppets dancing on their strings for his amusement.

"Makoto-"

"Captain?"

Something was missing, some crucial piece of information was lacking that could make sense of this. Haruka ceased to think on it when Rin stood, half-hard himself and ever so cautiously began to lower himself into the tub. There wasn't enough room for the both of them, not front to front or side by side- unless…

Haru reached up to grab Rin's hips, unheeding of the sharp nails that viciously dug into the skin of his wrists. He pulled, guiding Rin to straddle his hips; the glint in those golden eyes said he was going to pay dearly for his boldness. Haru's pulse raced at the filthy thoughts running through his mind: here was Rin, as much at Haru's mercy as Haru was at his. Here was an opportunity to be sure Rin never forgot there was always a price to be paid for meddling in affairs not his own. Perhaps he would have second thoughts before taking a prisoner again.

Rin lowered himself down slowly, his own hands drifting down beneath the surface of the water, scratching lines in Haru's skin. Haru welcomed the sting, arching into the brutal touch unabashedly. Rin startled when his questing hands found the evidence of how much Haru was enjoying this recent development. His eyes widened slightly, wicked smile returning with interest. Evidently he had reached much the same conclusion: if they were puppets, of course they must put on a show.

Makoto had not expected the sudden wave of bloody-minded possessiveness that swept through him at the sight of them together. It made for a beautiful portrait: Haruka's moonlight skin against Rin's sun-kissed tan, crimson hair resting against raven when he pressed their foreheads together, slanting his head to catch Haruka's unresponsive lips. Haruka was not still for long, his hands rose to Rin's shoulders, pressing lightly while he decided whether to welcome the contact or not.

Rin sank farther into the water and he relented, scoring his nails down Rin's spine instead until they arched into each other. It was a breath-taking sight, captivating. Thoroughly infuriating. It was not his place to be annoyed, after all he had demanded this, but now neither one of them were paying him any mind. He could see from the tenseness of Haruka's face that Rin's motions beneath the water were turning less cleansing and more salacious. Rin's panting breaths were no longer interspersed with whispered taunts. Greedy creature, he only ever thought of his own pleasure. Usually Makoto welcomed that enthusiasm, at least until he had seen it offered to someone else.

He rose and stalked to the tub with all the purpose of a panther closing in on its prey. It was one thing, sharing his partner with a prisoner. It was entirely another when his lover forgot who held the other end of his string. Makoto had never cared for being ignored. He was upon them before either had registered his movement, and it was with a certain amount of vicious glee that he pressed his palms onto Rin's shoulders, pushing him down just far enough until Haru's tip brushed against his vulnerable opening.

Both gasped in shock, Haruka's heavy-lidded eyes snapping open in disbelief and Rin now gasping with nervousness. He could push just that bit further, force Rin to move just the slightest bit and then impale him on Haruka. It would be agonizing without preparation, but they both knew Rin was no stranger to his little cruelties, and they both knew there were days when Mako still lost the battle to his memories. Rin's eyes told him this, wide and just shy of pleading. He would never debase himself enough to beg for mercy before a stranger-

Unless, of course, he would.

Makoto glanced to Haruka, waiting until the man's ocean eyes cleared of lust before twining his hand through Rin's damp hair and tugging him to his feet.

"Fuck." Rin hissed, and it was as much a curse as a prayer.

"Is there a problem, Mako?" Haruka was smirking, some vestige of his former confidence returning. He thought he had been forgiven; he thought Rin was the only one in danger now.

"There is. I'm bored of watching. Join us, Haru."

Rin stumbled from the tub, hissing with dismay even as laughter caught in his throat. It had been years since he had felt such desperation in Mako's hands- that minute tremor that said he was not so composed as he liked to pretend. He should have been ashamed of himself, so eager for whatever it was Mako was going to offer him that he could not remember his dignity before the islander. There was no place for shame here, though. Mako had never tolerated it in himself, and Rin had never been one to feel guilt for his pleasures.

He didn't flinch when Mako shoved him bodily to the bed, didn't protest when he kept pushing and pulling, arranging Rin however he liked on the coverlet. Instead he basked in Mako's demanding gaze, in the hungry light just beginning to spark again in Haru's eyes. He had never been the whore, but he felt it tonight.

Haruka rose from the tub, not even glancing in the direction of the door- any thoughts he had of escape had long since fled his mind when confronted with the opportunity to use his captors in such a primal manner. He was angry, perhaps even frightened, but it found its expression in lust and vengefulness. They would find nothing but another partner in him tonight.

"Bring the oil." Rin's cock leapt at the effortless command in Mako's voice, usually kept well hidden beneath a wheedling tone. Mako had ever preferred persuasion to force.

Haruka knelt to gather it up, watching them together out of the corner of his eye. They must make a sight, with Mako hunched over him like a predator guarding its next meal- but then, that would be Haru.

Except that when Haru proffered the vessel, Mako still didn't move. Rin began to feel uneasy, just the slightest flutter of doubt in his gut. Mako reached out to take the oil, caught Haru's wrist to pull him closer instead. He pressed his hot mouth to Haru's ear and Rin could see the full-body shudder of delight that ran through him, the way his skin turned redder still.

"Would you like to fuck him?"

 

 

 

Haru nearly fell to his knees at the whispered words, no more than a puff of air in his ear, but enough to send filthy images cascading through his mind's eye: Rin bent over the bed, Haru in him and over him with that clever blade pressed to his throat, Rin bound as he had been while Haru fucked him mercilessly, Rin gasping for air while Haru's hands forced it from his throat, uncertain whether he was pleading for a final breath or his release. Unsure which he would prefer…

He wanted it, more fiercely than he had the words to say.

"Well?" Mako murmured, arching an inquisitive brow. Rin glanced between them hurriedly; he knew they were discussing him, but the question itself had been too low for him to hear. He didn't tense when Haru nodded, offered no resistance when Mako finally snatched the oil from Haru's hand and wordlessly gestured him to the head of the bed. Rin frowned slightly when Mako tipped some of the bottle's contents onto his fingers; he glanced uncertainly up at Haru, bending his neck and trying to crane for a better look.

Instinctively, Haru gripped his chin and forced him to face Mako again. He wanted to watch the captain's face unobserved once the man finally realized what was happening. Far from earning him a reproach, Mako grinned in open approval.

"Hold him for me."

"What?" Rin began, then arched off the bed when Mako plunged two fingers into him. "Fuck, Mako!"

He writhed on the invading digits finally attempting escape only to be met with stern resistance. Haru pinned his shoulders down, uncaring of the bruises his grip would no doubt leave, watching the confusion melt into understanding, a flash of disbelief, anger, nervousness… lust.

Just watching his face was nearly enough to make Haru come, the warmth of skin against his own hardly helping matters. And all the while Mako watched their faces, drinking in every aspect of their thoughts. He twisted his fingers at the first sign of Rin relaxing, leaning forward to force them in that bit farther. Rin bucked into the contact, gritting his teeth as he stared Mako down.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rin growled, the knowledge already there in his voice.

Mako was kind enough to answer anyway, a mockery of tenderness in his touch as he brushed his hand across Rin's face, "Preparing you, Rin. We wouldn't want you hurt."

A third finger pushed in unexpectedly and Haru and Rin both groaned. Rin's unfocused eyes rose to meet his once more, and Haru found that breathing had become a dicey prospect at best.

"I don't think it's fair that Rin's getting all the attention. What do you think, Haru?"

He was surely damned anyway, Haru read that in the harsh planes of Mako's face. Whatever he did now, there would be hell to pay later, so he may as well take what he pleased.

"No, you're right." He pulled Rin's face toward him, pressing his cock against unresisting lips. He half-yelped when Rin's mouth closed about his erection, teeth scraping the head. It hurt, and he instinctively grabbed Rin's face, nails perilously close to his eyes.

"That wasn't kind." Mako chuckled despite his words, clamping a cautionary hand about Rin's balls. Rin instantly stilled, throwing a glance to Mako whose significance Haru couldn't begin to decipher. They had been together so long it was only natural they shared a language barred to outsiders. Vexed, Haru trailed his hands down to Rin's throat, pressing gently, massaging until Rin instinctively swallowed and his eyes finally flew back to meet Haru's own.

He jumped at the first tender touch of Rin's tongue against abraded skin, scalding hot and unforgiving to damaged skin. Haruka didn't bother stifling a gasp, shamelessly arching into the wet caress.

"Better." Mako purred, fingers resuming their steady rhythm while his free hand wrapped about Rin's length, stroking firmly. Rin groaned, and Haru winced as the first few drops of pre-cum slid free. This was happening too fast: Rin's and Mako's eyes on him, the weight of their stares enough to prickle the hairs on his skin, Rin's tongue already lapping at the fluid, unholy mirth in his gaze, the tickle of his hair against drying skin-

Haruka tamped down on the thought, determined to resist until Rin came; his hips were rising and falling in a steady rhythm, breath shallow and choppy and skin turning darker by the moment. He couldn't hold out indefinitely, it didn't look like he even wanted to make the attempt.

"Greedy, both of you." Mako tutted. He twisted and Rin keened, hands fisting in the blankets, scrabbling for a connection he could not find. Unthinkingly, Haru clasped his reaching hand, bruising it in his grip though neither would know it until the morning.

"Rin."

Rin's hazy eyes turned to Mako once more, pliant even when Haru began to pull at him, forcing him to take more of his length until he felt the warm clasp of Rin's throat muscles working to take him.

"Look at me and come for Haru."

The sound Rin made was agonized denial, and it sent a bolt of lust straight to Haru's cock. The idea of taking this from Rin, forcing him to swallow every drop and reveling in the jealousy even Mako hadn't realized was beginning to tinge his every word- It was exactly what Haruka wanted.

"Rin," Mako said, gentler this time, "I want to see this."

A high-pitched keen was all the warning he had before Rin was coming, white stripes painting his chest as he writhed against Mako, frantically tonguing Haru in a desperate attempt to pull him under too. Tears of effort beaded in Haru's eyes, for a moment he thought he could resist, but Rin sucked viciously and he was gone, uncaring of the harsh pants as Rin struggled to breath, inured to Mako's delighted laughter. Rin took him, took every drop and swallowed wantonly, tonguing until pleasure turned to pain.

Haru endured it a moment longer, lost in the sight of them together before finally throwing himself back to escape. Mako was slowly bringing Rin down, rubbing a soothing hand just above his cock while his tongue cleaned the skin of Rin's stomach.

Words he did not recognize fell from Rin's lips, most of them harsh and lacking in melody. The timbre of Rin's voice was enough to tell him that he was the subject; Mako's whispered reply was visible only in the movement of his lips. Whatever he had said, Rin shot him an incredulous look mixed of equal parts intrigue and disbelief.

Mako's smile never faltered when he turned back to Haru, "Reach under the pillow, there's a knife there."

Rin bucked desperately then, struggling in earnest until it took the combined weight of both Haru and Mako to hold him down. Haru scrambled for the blade anyway, wincing when one of Rin's fists connected with his eye.

Haru found the blade easily enough. Ten minutes ago he would have cut Rin's throat immediately and gone for Mako not a second after. Ten minutes ago he would not have dreamed the night would begin with fucking the captain's mouth while the first mate looked on.

Now… now he wanted to stay and watch how this game played out. He didn't hesitate long when Mako stretched out a demanding hand, obviously testing him to see how far this new compliance would go. Haruka wondered what would happen if he pulled back. What if he chose to plunge the blade into Rin's exposed chest? What if his next swipe was for Mako's all too knowing eyes? No. Pride and curiosity were his weaknesses; the trap was set perfectly, and he had walked into it wide-eyed and aware.

He tensed when Mako rose from the bed, leaving Rin to prop himself on his elbows and gape after him. The rules had changed somehow, and he wasn't going to act until he knew whether the game had gone in his favor or not.

"Now that we have reached an understanding," Mako slid a chair from the far wall, pushing it closer to the bed and throwing himself into it gracefully, "I want us to be completely honest with each other, Haru."

"Meaning?"

"Do you still want to fuck him?"

Haru blinked incredulously at the faint stirring of interest. He would have sworn it wasn't in him, but that damned villainous smile coupled with Rin's pliant weight still resting against him…

"Yes."

Rin smiled thinly, a menacing taunt if ever Haru had seen one. "Really, Mako, he's practically a virgin. You used to specialize in those, didn't you?"

"I've had my turn. Now it's yours. Nervous?"

Rin's eyes narrowed, he hissed a few words in that unknown language again.

"Hence the knife, Rin. He'll behave." As if to illustrate the point, Mako turned the wicked edge to the light and watched the gleam play along the blade.

Rin looked fit to have an apoplexy at being discovered, the gaze he turned on Haru was all naked defiance once more. "He's practically a virgin, Mako. Didn't you used to specialize in those?"

Haru had heard enough; he pinned Rin's throat beneath his hand once more, a warning that sent the captain's pulse flying beneath his fingertips. The lips he pressed to Rin's own were anything but gentle, teeth biting roughly at chapped lips just short of drawing blood, teeth smashing together with the force of it. Rin struggled, fighting to draw even half a breath, but Haru remembered well his own treatment and held him locked in place until Rin was forced to stillness, anything to keep that last bit of life-giving air in his lungs. This would be his vengeance, and by the time they were through Rin would know it.

And all the while his lover would look on and raise not a hand to help him. It would be the first fracture between them, a tenuous space where Haru intended to insinuate himself.

 

 

 

 

 

For an infinite minute, Rin's world was reduced to the pressure of Haru's hand on his throat, demanding lips against his own and a heavy weight in his chest screaming that he needed air. He tried to pull away, but Haru wouldn't have it and the pressure on his throat only intensified… but Mako was watching. Mako would not allow him to come to harm. He clung to that thought as he surrendered himself to the kiss, meeting violence with violence. He was exhausted, lethargic from his release but he could already feel a faint tendril of arousal taking hold again.

He had always had a taste for danger, and this man had no better reason to stay his murderous hands than Mako's watchful eye and Rin's own carefully tended knife.

Suddenly the pressure released and his first gasp of air was sweet as fine wine- tears had gathered in his eyes and his muscles would not obey him- the last defense of a dying beast, this illusion of helplessness. With shaking hands he caught the back of Haru's head and drew him down once more, locking eyes with him just before he mustered the strength to pull himself up and press another kiss to those lips that still tasted a little of salt. It was like kissing the sea, he imagined: tempestuous and calm by turns, always treacherous, ever fickle and subject to no will but its own. All of its traits made manifest in one man.

Rin followed when Haru pulled away, pushing himself into Haru until the man finally took the hint and fell back into the pillow. He could see uncertainty written in that azure gaze, a touch of worry easily overpowered by longing. He could read reluctance in the way Haru's hands closed about his waist, both pulling him up and yet trying to hold him away. His mind was not quite made up, but Haru's body had long since made the decision for him. Rin didn't allow him to dwell on it, one calloused hand finding the evidence of his interest and coaxing him out of his thoughts.

His eyes followed the muscles of Haru's throat when he swallowed; the temptation proved to much and he leaped down to nip at the Adam's apple, blowing cool air against heated skin until he felt Haru leap beneath him. He hid a wicked smile in the curve of Haru's shoulder, shifting deliberately until he found the right angle-

Rin arched back, pinning Haru's shoulders beneath him as he impaled himself on Haru's cock the barest inch, gasping with the effort of it, overcome with equal parts pleasure and pain but not sure where the division lay. Haru bucked instinctively and he could only cry out, nails digging into vulnerable flesh, praying that Haru would be still. He heard Mako's growl, a shift of the chair that indicated he was shifting his weight, resisting the urge to reach out and touch-

Did he want Mako's hands on him? Did he want _this_ , writhing and helpless on his enemy's cock, the line between captor and captive irrevocably blurred?

He opened his eyes, meeting Haru's gaze once more: He was enthralled, eyes wide and questioning, completely free of any thought of malice for once. His hands still rested gently on Rin's hips, gliding up his sides now to explore all the bare skin that was his to touch and make his mark on. A ragged breath shuddered out of them, some tentative link neither could name yet was beginning to forge between them-

Mako's hands settled on his shoulders and Rin could feel the cruelty in them just before he was forced down another inch.

"Fuck." He wasn't sure which of them had said it, but Rin's own throat had closed on a scream that was as much agony as pleasure. He wasn't ready, they hadn't prepared enough, but Mako's inexorable pressure did not care in the slightest-

And then Haru arched into him just as Mako shoved down once more, and he was full. Rin cried out, leaning forward once more to sink his teeth in the join of Haru's neck and shoulder, muffling his scream there. Haru's arms folded about him, drawing him closer; he couldn't even care that those nails were scoring his back with scratches that would burn come morning. It was enough that he could feel the hitching motion of Haru's chest beneath his own, that he was surrounded by warmth and Mako's hand was combing through his hair, soothing and gentle at last.

His hair fell about them, hiding their faces from their voyeur. Rin shuddered as Mako drew it back, tucking it just behind his ear. It was unbearably intimate, but he could not bring himself to pull away or utter the words he knew would mean the end of it.

Haru took the choice from his hands anyway when he began to move, slow at first, shallow. Rin arched away from him, gasping when Haru's hips followed, never quite allowing him the escape he wasn't sure he wanted. Mako was whispering words of praise in his ear, telling him how beautiful he was, how perfect, and he was all of seventeen again- dabbling in rites whose significance he couldn't understand.

"Take him deeper, Rin, I know you can."

"I can't." Rin whispered, embarrassed to hear the beginning of a whine in his voice. He was still captain, dammit, and he was fucked if Mako was running this show.

Haru arched into him again, deep and lingering, still unforgivably slow. Mako pushed him forward only slightly until Rin could feel the drag of that hard length against his most sensitive area- it was over then. He gritted his teeth and fought it, but he could see in Haru's eyes the man knew exactly what he was doing and meant to unmake him thoroughly. He pulled Rin roughly to him, hitting that spot again, churning his hips until Rin felt himself coming again- though he wasn't certain it could have been called anything so tame as 'pleasurable'.

Haru laughed as speckles of cum dotted him, completely unconcerned, still moving until Rin wanted to beg for a reprieve. He bit his tongue and closed his eyes, allowing his head to fall back so that Mako could press wet kisses to the tears that had somehow begun to make their way down his cheeks.

It was awful and wonderful, terrifying and exhilarating all at once. He wanted more, he wanted it to end- and all of that was irrelevant because Haru's hand had closed about his cock, milking him for more even as incoherent pleas dripped from his lips: no more, faster, let me go, tighter, damn you.

It was a relief when he felt the heat of Haru's seed spread through him, seeping obscenely from where they were joined. Haru jerked, face twisting into a grimace- plainly it wasn't enough, and coming so soon once more had to be every bit as painful for him. He rocked gently until at last the spasms had ended, no sound to break the silence but their panting breaths and the echo of a heartbeat in their ears.

Rin stared, still struggling to comprehend anything past the buzzing restlessness just beneath his skin. He was reluctant to move, and when he tried Haru was quick to stop him by looping a sinewy arm about his waist. It seemed he was no more inclined to surrender their contact than Rin, both basking in an afterglow not untinged with shame and a lingering vestige of shock. Neither one the clear victor, if a battle it had been.

Makoto's voice broke their strange reverie, hushed though it was. "Beautiful, both of you."

Haruka bared his teeth, finally moved to action. Rin pushed away from him quickly, wincing at the sting. The gaze they fixed on Mako was just short of hostile, enough so that Rin could see him tighten his grip on the knife- his knife.

There was a thought. It was his knife. It was his ship, and Mako was still his lover. With Mako eyeing them so smugly, never had he been so certain that a reminder was in order.

Haruka had pushed himself up, folding his legs gracefully to settle on the bed for all the world as though aftershocks of sensation weren't running through him, tinging his cheeks pink and setting him to twitching. Rin allowed himself to sprawl forward, half on Haru's lap, stretching the merest bit until Mako took the bait and reached out to touch him, to reassure himself that Rin still came tamely to his hand. He tilted his head up, smiling that cocky smile that Mako always felt the need to kiss away-

When he drew too near, Rin caught the hand with the knife and twisted just so, enough that Mako had no choice but to release his grip or hurt his captain. Even now with lust and possessiveness swirling in his eyes, Rin knew the choice he would make. The knife was his again, and Mako kneeling helplessly before him… before them. Haru's delighted gasp was very nearly a purr, his fingers began to trace an unwitting pattern on the skin of Rin's shoulder-blades. A rune of protection, he thought, though Rei would have known for certain.

An interesting tic, one that he tucked neatly away for further study when he didn't have such pressing business at hand.

"Did you think you were only going to watch?" Mako had neatly snatched his composure away, had thrown him to a bloody wolf and then reveled in watching while Rin had been devoured. He was shaken, his skin was too small and so many thoughts were flitting through his mind it was nigh impossible to catalog them all. But he knew just the way to restore his composure and take back his pride all in one fell swoop.

He pressed the edge of the blade to Mako's throat, traced it down to the hem of his shirt and sliced in a ragged motion just a little too near the skin. Pity he was too damn tired to fuck him, but Mako had always delighted in their power games before. His expression said he wanted no part of this game where their prisoner might see, but then, Rin had never intended Haru to see him so thoroughly undone either. Turn about was fair play, after all.

Mako started to stand, pushed himself up all of an inch before Rin's foot settled atop his shoulder to force him down once more. He hooked a calf behind his shoulder, pulling until Mako ceded at last, grudgingly sinking the final few inches until he lay on the floor with Rin pressing firmly on the back of his neck.

"If I say _kneel_ and you do not kneel, I will _prostrate_ you. Am I clear, Mako?"

"Yes." Mako hissed. Rin had heard that timbre before a time or two, but never anywhere near their bed. The thought made his throat run dry with anticipation.

Inspiration struck and he didn't bother hiding his grin as he jauntily tossed the knife in the air, catching it by its dull edge to proffer it to Haru.

"I've taken his shirt, why don't you cut the rest from him?"

Mako startled, flashing an incredulous glance up at Rin through his lashes. Still he did not struggle and Rin did not relent.

Haru took the knife, sliding bonelessly from the bed to crouch next to Mako. Rin spoke again just as he lifted the blade to make the first cut: "If he bleeds, you're dead."

"Is that all?" Haruka lifted a brow, tracing his hand down the path his erstwhile blade would soon follow, down the curve of Mako's spine to the small of his back, plucking at the waist of his trousers.

"Yes, I think it is."

 

 

 

With deep breaths and fragmenting thoughts, Makoto fought the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm him at any minute. Rin knew what this meant to him, he knew exactly what he was inflicting by holding Mako's head so low, unable to see what it was Haru was doing to him- only feeling. He knew that he was baring Mako's back to an enemy- an armed foe no less- and yet Mako felt no shift in his weight that would indicate wavering resolve. He had miscalculated, and now Rin was exacting the price his pride demanded.

The first touch of the blade's tip to his unprotected skin felt like fire and ice- burning and yet too cold for words. Haru lingered over his task, no doubt revisiting his own memories of their time in the infirmary. Mako swallowed and forced himself to breathe. Rin would not hesitate to carry through on his threat if he felt Haru overstepped in any way. That thought was small comfort when he felt the blade slide just below the waist of his trousers-

He forced a laugh, harsh to his own ears but not so much that Haru would hear it. No stranger to his moods, Rin would catch the nuance of it: "Spare my clothes at least. I am always at such pains to mend them."

"Not tonight, I think." Rin's voice was inexorable and firm. It brought him some small shade of comfort, enough that he felt his lungs drawing in precious air at least, no more feeling of smothering beneath such a light weight. A man's thoughts were his fear's prey, his master had said. Mako had hated him, but he clung to those words now.

The fabric tore and Mako swore under his breath, feeling the first beads of sweat gather on the back of his neck. He gasped aloud when he felt the flat of Haru's warm tongue there, tasting it- it was enough to bring him fully into the present, the specter of his past fled back into the dark corners of his mind where he preferred to keep it.

Rin felt it too, the softening of his muscles, his sudden compliance and just as quickly lifted his weight. A mute invitation to raise himself to a kneeling position again. Mako obeyed with alacrity, soothed beyond his own comprehension by the simple act of resting his chin on Rin's knee, arms folded beneath his face.

The blade skimmed his skin as Haru cut through fabric once more, enough that he could roughly tear the last of it from Mako's legs, pushing him forward against Rin's bare knees. Skin to skin, he allowed Rin's fingers to comb through his hair, uncaring if they caught in tangles. Evidently this was to be a night of discovery; he would rather Haru had never seen it, rather he never witnessed Rin tearing down his shields so adroitly, but that was precisely the point Rin was making.

If one of them was vulnerable, then it must be both.

"Touch him." Rin commanded, soft now. Reverent. Mako didn't so much as twitch when Haru obeyed, no thought for subtlety- his hands closed about Mako's length, moving with such dry friction Mako wasn't sure whether to move into the touch that promised release or pull away from the punishing sting of it. He met Rin's eyes instead, telling him all these things in a way only they two would know. Rin rewarded him, calloused fingers playing over his nipples, pinching and soothing by turns.

Haru leaned into him, warm chest pressed into his back, warmer lips worrying at his shoulder until Mako knew beyond a doubt he had been marked. He refused to come though, not even when Haru's clever thumb found his slit, rubbing the wet pre-cum into his skin, teasing out more. He would show Haru the bond Rin and he shared, the one that had not wavered or broken even now. In the end, Rin still belonged to him, even with the islander's cum in him and on him, even as he watched Haru with the rapt expression of a man taking his first drink in days…

Rin still belonged to him because Mako was still his. He would not come until Rin demanded it of him; he would mark Rin's body again in his turn, show Haru exactly what manner of beast he had elected to climb in bed with. But all in good time; tonight was for Rin and Haru. For the former it was a reassurance of his place, and for the latter, an invitation to sins he had barely even begun to contemplate.

So he waited, patiently biding his time as he had always done until at last Rin bent down and offered him the words he had begun to crave: "Come for us, Mako."

This once he was prepared to obey, the certainty of triumph already settling in his bones. This he had not planned for, no, but every good interrogator knew to adjust his game to the subject- that he had become the subject was… liberating. A mere hour and already their dynamic had shifted to account for another, and if this was a taste of what he could expect from here forward-

"Stop thinking." Rin laughed, scooting farther down the bed until he could add his hands to Haru's own, and fuck-

He sank to the floor, uncaring that it was Haru's hands that held him, unresisting when Rin gently began to tug him into the bed.

Tomorrow. His heavy thoughts would keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn. I completely forgot that erasing a chapter erases the associated comments too. Sorry, folks! ^.^; I don't value them any less but I wanted this whole scene in one chapter, so sacrifices were made.
> 
> Worth it, I hope.
> 
> Anyway, first threesome so I'm sure it's dicey. Any concrit will be immediately applied to future threesomes. Of which there are at least three more. I have lost the capacity to feel shame.


	16. The Opening Salvo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boredom is Nagisa's greatest enemy, Rei thinks too much, and Nitori isn't playing.
> 
> Oh, and Sei is up to something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After all that has happened this week (this year), I'm a little queasy with Nagisa's enthusiasm for firearms. If this is an issue, I'll just say here that there is an implied threat of their use in the opening paragraphs and Nagisa's twisted thoughts on their use.
> 
> Please everyone, stay safe.

Boredom was, to the minds of some, Nagisa's greatest enemy. After years of drudgery working near the docks it was boredom that had made him traipse up the gangplank of the prettiest ship in harbor and beg for a position- _any_ position- aboard. His luck that it should be a pirate vessel; The _Samenoe'_ s raids and the near constant need to escape imperial sympathizers had kept him on his toes for months. Until his daily work became drudgery once more. It had been boredom that led him to pick up a rapier and by turns nag and beguile Mako into teaching him its use until the constant practice had begun to wear upon his last nerve.

In his infinite wisdom, or decided lack thereof, Rin had been the first to press a pistol into his hands. No need for rigorous exercise or dull routines there, only aim the weapon and let it do its bloody work. Nagisa had been certain he would grow weary of it before the week was out. Then Mako had taken him in hand once more, advising that he should not think too long on the weapon's process but its _use_. Fire, and meters away his enemy could fall dead or mortally wounded. Instantaneously.

Nagisa sighted down the barrel, watching the crew with a keen eye. It would go ill for him if he actually fired, he knew. Rin was speaking to their prisoners now, apprising them of their fate, and if a shot were to clip him or even come near he would be displeased. A moment's entertainment for a short lifetime of regret. The crew, however… surely if he waited patiently Rin would not object to his killing one or two. Most of them were bound to refuse his generosity, loyal subjects to their core, and living targets were always something of a thrill that lingered with him for days after.

Most of the crew were lying or sitting on deck, nursing injuries and glaring hatred at Rin and the pirates that circled around them like so many sharks keeping watch. They listened in silence, already aware of the choice they would soon make. For most of them, the decision had already been made and they used these few minutes reprieve to make their peace with it. One or two watched Rin with considering eyes, their choices, and lives, still in the balance. It would mean a comfortable pension for their families if they died here today, but who would be left alive to report them for desertion?

Another caught his eye, one whose head towered above the others even seated. His blue jacket hung half off his shoulder, a splash of crimson dying the cream of his shirt. One leg was slung carelessly out, his arms folded atop it like a support. He wasn't watching Rin at all, too busy watching the clouds overhead, the lightening sky in the east, anything at all but Nagisa's captain. He took aim again and imagined cocking his pistol, putting a bullet between those wandering eyes. The last lesson in respect the man would ever need.

He didn't take the shot, but he didn't take his eyes off the man either. Whomever he was, he wasn't listening, meaning that Rin's offer had no chance of buying him and whatever choice he had made he would not be persuaded from. That made him a mystery, a true challenge to recruit.

Rin was through speaking, he watched their captives now with hard eyes waiting to see who would accept his mercy and who would die with their pride.

One rose, then two, another and another still until only a handful remained defiantly sitting. Their sneers had vanished, replaced with an eerie blankness and stiff uncompromising poses. The outlier had glanced to Rin at last, but his expression held none of the resignation of his peers, only a very bitter amusement. Nagisa had seen men laughing until the moment of their death, had seen their faces contort into the rictus of a grin even as the last breath left their bodies. Privately he had wondered if he would not die the same way, laughing until the last. This was different though; he wanted to know what the hell was so funny that a man could watch his comrades choose to die and not betray so much as a spark of anger at them or at the twist of fate that had forced the decision on them.

Nagisa heard only the vague murmur of Rin's words, but he knew the order off by heart. For deserters, the first order was always the same: _kill the man next to you._

He watched as one after another the men complied, cutting down comrades they had eaten with the night before, allies through a dozen storms and battles. It was a wonder to him Rin ever allowed these traitors to live, but the price they paid for it was so steep they were unlikely to make the choice again.

It should have been the work of a moment, but when a deserter attempted to pierce the stomach of the tall man, he found it wrapped harmlessly in the coat, the man's hand clamped about the blade in a vicegrip. Nagisa could read the surprise in Rin's stance; the way he toyed with the hilt of his own saber suggested he was undecided as to how this should be handled. Nagisa had an idea or two in that direction himself.

He swept into the fray, nimbly jumping over the corpses to shove the inept crewman aside. He cocked the pistol, leveling it a final time at the man's forehead… and there he froze.

The man's jaw was working as though he was chewing on words he couldn't quite bring himself to say, but the sense of them was there in his eyes. There was no sort of pride or stubbornness there, only a vicious desire to kill and a bone-deep understanding of how impossible that was at this stage. It was so unlike the disinterest of a few moments ago, the amusement when he first discerned his fate that Nagisa could not help but pause to study him, wondering what sort of expression this change of circumstance would provoke.

He stood and Nagisa allowed it, curiously both relieved and disappointed to think he had changed his mind upon witnessing the death of his crewmates. He twitched violently when the man brushed his gun aside as casually as if it had been no more than a bothersome moth.

"If you think the disappearance of this ship and crew will be greeted with indifference, you are sorely mistaken." The man had locked eyes with Nagisa, but it was Rin he addressed in a voice that rang across the deck.

"Are you going to shoot him or not, Nagisa?" Rin looked studiously unaffected, but Nagisa could hear a tendril of interest creeping into his voice. Those imperial whelps that did not choose to join them fell into two camps: Those that accepted their fate and attempted to die with grace or those that fought until their own bodies rebelled. He couldn't recall any that had actually tried _reasoning_ their way out of hell. And, Nagisa realized incredulously, that was exactly what this man meant to do.

"I'm certain this can't be the first time you've similarly 'vanished' a crew-"

"You speak like a scholar. What was your position aboard this ship?" Rin was definitely interested now. The man spoke like a noble, but he couldn't be. Not on a scout vessel. Those that paid for their commissions invariably found themselves serving near shore in safe, comfortable positions that quickly led to meaningless promotions.

"But if you take _this_ ship, it _will_ be your last."

Nagisa flicked a glance at the dead and dying around them. A bare handful might be saved if they were tended soon. This man and another might walk away on their own legs, not enough to manage a ship of this size.

"You're very certain of that." The question- and threat- was plain in Rin's tone.

The man barely stopped himself from swallowing before he answered. "I am Ryugazaki Rei, quartermaster of this good ship and son of-"

"What is the son of a great house doing aboard this relic?" Rin stepped up beside Nagisa, gesturing for him to lower his weapon. Nagisa did so, not quite as reluctantly as he might have a moment past.

Nagisa could not say what it was that passed between them, noble sons that they were, but after a silence that seemed to stretch into infinity Rin gestured his new crewman away. "Join me aboard my ship, Ryugazaki Rei, we'll discuss the terms of your colleagues' release."

"Not my own?" Rei countered flatly, glaring daggers at Rin.

The captain smiled unrepentantly, "All in due time, of course."

 

* * *

 

 

 

Rei was avoiding him. After the crisis this afternoon and their improbable escape, Nagisa had been looking forward to collapsing in a small cot with his lover, indulging themselves until at last they had taken the edge off their fear and excitement. Afterward, when they were tangled together skin to skin, breathing each other's air, he had intended to breach the subject of Nitori again. Nagisa was prepared to beg for his forgiveness if that was what it took; he would spend weeks proving that Rei was all he needed or wanted, would deliver the surgeon's heart on a hand-carved platter if that was what it took to win back Rei's trust.

But Rei was in the crow's nest, far above the deck and he had left instructions he was not to be disturbed. Any other day Nagisa might have chanced it, but today he knew he was the reason for Rei's withdrawal and counted it a fair price paid. So he waited on deck, restless with need and trepidation wondering why in the hell he could never just be thankful for what he had.

He knew the answer in his heart of hearts. Nagisa wasn't prone to self-reflection, but he was not in the habit of self-deceit either.

From the day Nitori had first stepped aboard ship, pale and shivering, cowering in the shadows of Rin and Makoto as he warily glanced about the deck, Nagisa had hated him. Part of it was the fear he radiated, the utter lack of confidence coupled with a soft-spoken timidity that had simultaneously raised Nagisa's hackles and drawn him like a bee to honey. He wondered now if some part of him hadn't seen through the charade and been instinctively wary.

That certainly wasn't the whole of it though; what had set his teeth on edge had been how swiftly Nitori had insinuated himself into a position of authority. No one aboard ship kept their own quarters save the captain and first mate, yet this timid little mouse had secured himself the largest area aboard ship and _four_ beds where it was uncommon to find even one. Anything he asked was given to him, whether it was supplies or amusements- and Nagisa defied anyone to say those glass vials and endless chemicals weren't just that. Rin listened to his council, Makoto spoke in hushed tones near him, all the ship rearranging itself about his whims though he could not have done a damn thing to earn it.

And then there was Rei. Rei who had gone to every effort to be sure their quiet surgeon felt at home. Whether it was assisting in the initial set-up of the infirmary or pointedly sitting with Nitori over supper to keep the crew from him, there was nothing Rei would not do for a kindred spirit. Another scholar, a gentleman by nature if not by birth. Always with their heads together, always colluding. Rei had defended Nitori even from _him._ And Nagisa had not missed the looks they exchanged: the honest pleasure in Rei's smile whenever Nitori ventured from his hidey-hole and approached him. The admiration in Nitori's eyes as he had watched Rei going about his duties.

Jealousy had played no small role in his need to belittle and demean, but Nitori's own odd habits were every bit as much to blame. There was a wrongness in him, and if it was true that like called to like then he had no business hovering about Rei. Though to Nagisa's mind it accounted for that strange connection they had forged in the infirmary not long ago. It accounted for why the memory still dogged his thoughts and overshadowed his relief at being underway for Sanctuary.

He was caught, well and surely, but it didn't have to be the same for Rei. Nagisa had kept him safe those first few months after he had joined the crew, from no less than Makoto himself on one memorable occasion. One deranged surgeon should be no trouble at all.

Even in the privacy of his own mind the thought did not ring with conviction.

Hours he waited for Rei to descend, but the stubborn man would not be moved. Nagisa had begun to wonder whether he might have fallen asleep at his post or whether he had given any thought to what the harsh sun was going to do to his skin. Rei was a creature of theory and ideals, always the concrete details escaped him- meaning reality often nipped him soundly on the ass. Feeling a little spiteful, Nagisa decided against scaling up to remind him. When Rei wanted his company again he could damn well ask for it.

Another thought occurred to him, this one slow in coming and steeped with nerves: he should pay a visit to Nitori and draw a line in the sand.

 

 

 

The sickbay was bright with candlelight when Nagisa carelessly pushed his way in. He feared he might have lost his nerve entirely if he had bothered to rap upon the door. The half-amused, half-vexed stare Nitori fixed on him said this had not gone unnoticed.

He slammed the door forcefully, leaning against it with all the nonchalance he could muster. Nitori laid aside the flask he had been swirling, striking a similar pose with an attitude of insolent mockery.

"You even closed the door. How bold."

Nagisa felt his skin warm at the sharp reminder of his back pushed to the wall, Nitori's whispered threats in his ear and the vicious _bite_ of his kiss. He pushed away quickly, giving up his pretense in favor of stalking farther into the room- the better to be sure Nitori could not manhandle him so easily again. He tried to ignore the curl of arousal in his gut, the sudden fierce desire to let the scene play out once more… only this time he would not be the only one left panting and confused by a maelstrom of fascination and lust.

"Rei isn't speaking to me."

Nitori sighed deeply, looking to the ceiling as though to beg for patience he no longer had. "I can put a great many things to rights, Nagisa, but if Rei has finally come to his senses I'm afraid there is no cure for it."

What more was there to say? It was exactly what he had feared, that one day Rei would remember himself and pull away. Rei was the constant in his life, the one man that never grew tiresome, that always managed to surprise him and throw him off guard. He was the panacea to the constant need for change, for novelty, that had always plagued Nagisa's thoughts. Rei was, in short, essential. Indispensable.

"If you hadn't k-kissed me this wouldn't have happened." Nagisa choked on the word, shocked at his own inability to articulate it. After all the filth he had hurled at his comrades in his tempers, after all the depraved murmurs he had mouthed in Rei's ears as they lay in the darkness, _this_ was what had defeated him. But his skin was crawling under Nitori's dedicated regard, trying to detach itself from his frame and crawl the hell out of the wolf's den. It was exciting, it was infuriating and every shade of emotion between.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. But you can never quite help yourself, can you? You're never satisfied, never content. You prick and prod and then profess yourself wronged when at last you are stung. The thought of leaving me alone never occurred to you at all, did it? No, because once something has caught your attention you never can let it be until you have rooted out its every last secret." Nitori's voice shook with rage, lips twisting with the effort of constraining it. "And now you stumble back and cry to me that it is all so unfair, that you are _blameless_ in this."

The Nitori that he knew spoke in plain words when forced to speak at all, he shrugged his shoulders as though protecting his vulnerable neck and never quite looked any man in the eye. This man, whomever he was, was an entirely different beast of challenging glares and sharp smiles, his words as pretty and polished as Rei's had been so long ago but his mannerisms nearer to Makoto's. He was a patchwork of habits, and Nagisa could feel his damnable curiosity preparing to land him in trouble again.

"But you are _not_. You courted me, Nagisa. You sought my attention and you have _earned_ it."

Those words sounded as though they were as much promise as threat. Nagisa's heart raced fit to leap from his chest, his mouth gone dry in a sudden gut-wrenching stab of arousal. He wanted to be the center of that fury, that single-minded passion that had caused the surgeon to forget even his ever-present mask of professionalism. He wanted to 'pick' and 'prod' still more to see how much of his mask was an act. Nagisa wondered if he might not yet find a timid healer beneath the bloodthirsty sneer. Peel away a few layers more of that armor and who else would he find?

Nitori wasn't seeing him anymore, his eyes were unfocused and clouded as his fingers reached out to clamp about the neck of the flask. A crack spidered along the frail glass and at last Nitori came back to himself, drawing a shuddering breath and blinking quickly. Nagisa wondered what memories he saw there. Whatever it was, he sensed these were sins whose confession he was not ready to hear.

"Fine. Now that I have your attention, whatever the hell game we're playing, let's agree to leave Rei out of it-"

"No."

Nagisa's eyes widened to saucers, snapping with temper. "No?"

"Rei might indulge you, I will not. This is not a game, it is a negotiation of terms."

They stood in silence, each staring the other down. Nagisa was uneasy, imagining what a man so duplicitous as Nitori could do to guileless Rei, remembering anew the promise of exquisite agony Nitori had made to him personally. Already Rei had changed so much for him, sacrificed so much he had believed intrinsic to his character, and here Nitori thought to reshape him again into someone that could accept they three as a whole for the sake of Nagisa's damnable wandering eye and Nitori's sadistic impulses.

He wasn't going to subject Rei to that, not any of it. Let the captain play what games he would with his mate and prisoner, Nagisa had at last found the line he was not willing to cross.

"As far as I'm concerned, there's nothing to negotiate. Keep your claws out of Rei-"

"Jealousy suits you." Nitori rose and made for the door, Nagisa stalking after him with purpose.

"It's _not_ jealousy-"

"You think I haven't seen you grinding your teeth every time I dare to approach him? You're worried that some cosmic balance might shift in my favor and leave you alone again. He's already turned coat once, after all, so there's nothing to keep him from it once more." Nagisa couldn't see the knowing smile that flashed across Nitori's face; he knew his prey well, and it came as no surprise when Nagisa obligingly stepped into the trap he had set.

"Call him a fucking traitor again and I'll gut you." Nagisa growled, "But you go ahead and try for him, see what it gets you."

"Both of you, I hope."

Nagisa wrenched the door open and shouldered past the surgeon, stomping toward his own berth. Their parting words echoed in his ears, taunting him. Rei would never have it, and Nagisa could make do without anything at all so long as he had Rei.

He stopped by the galley to grab the last of the grog, trying in vain to replace the memory of Nitori's lips with the burn of alcohol before returning at last to crew's quarters.

Rei was still gone, and it was those illicit memories that kept him company until fatigue took him at last.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Blood never quite came clean, Nitori knew. Vinegar, mineral oils, salt water and a stiff scrubbing, he had tried them all in his time and a few more caustic remedies but somehow the blood never came clean. It was a wonder the stains had ever washed off his own hands, out from under his nails and inside the lines of his palms, though it still stained his garments with the surgeon's badge of skill and butchery. Even after all these years it still bothered him, that he could never quite scrub it out of anything else-

He breathed in deeply, shutting his eyes and waiting for the memory to pass, waiting for his hands to stop trembling and his breath to stop coming short. He didn't have the right to fear any more. But the pillowcase would have to go, else those few hateful spots would taunt him with their immutability every day as he carried out his chores. He wanted Makoto to bleed for it too. Had it not been a certain death sentence Nitori knew he could cheerfully slice a crimson line through Makoto's veins and let the wood of the deck take in the essence of the man responsible for its upkeep-

Kinder thoughts, gentler thoughts. Rin tolerated his eccentricities because he knew Nitori's skills as a healer were worth a small sacrifice here and there, it was simply the price he paid for a top-notch surgeon. That forbearing attitude would change if ever Nitori became a threat to Rin's pet officers.

Thankfully a soft rap on the infirmary door drew him from his brown study. Memories were plaguing him this evening, an old craving beginning to rear its ugly head after being stifled for so long.

Eager to answer, Nitori nevertheless took the time to fold the pillowcase neatly and lay it atop his desk. He could burn it tonight after he had seen to thoroughly cleaning the rest of his domain. He glanced hopefully at the flask sitting innocuously on the corner of his desk; he'd had some luck pulling oil stains from fabric with that brew, there had to be some way to modify it for something a little more stubborn.

The sight of Rei fiddling with the ties of his coat while he debated whether to knock again banished every thought of cleanliness from his mind.

"Rei, welcome." The warmth in his voice was entirely unfeigned, in part because he could see the way Rei brightened to hear it, instantly at his ease. He didn't hesitate to step inside when Nitori gestured to him, didn't jump or tense when Nitori shut the door and locked the two of them away from prying eyes. At his core Ryugazaki Rei was still a gentleman with many of a gentleman's foibles, among them his trusting nature, but with Nagisa for his faithful hound it wasn't likely to cost him any time soon.

"I wasn't expecting you." Not now, in any case. He had half expected Rei to gallop in the minute Nagisa trotted out, but it was well and truly night outside. Hours had passed him by as he set his domain to rights.

"I only finished my watch a half-turn ago." Rei seemed to respond to his unspoken thought, eyes roaming across the expanse of the infirmary before coming back to rest on Nitori himself. "The captain thinks we are free and clear for now, but I wouldn't put it past Mikoshiba to steal a march on us in the night."

"You know him then?" Carefully Nitori shepherded Rei to the desk, nudging and cajoling until at last he took the hint and sat. Nitori perched on the edge of the desk, resembling nothing so much as a hawk on his master's hand.

"Knew. Only briefly, I'm afraid, but his reputation precedes him in military circles. I'll rest easier once we've reached Sanctuary."

"Is that why you've come here? I have a few tinctures that might help you sleep."

"Nagisa might have used one earlier. I had intended to speak with him tonight, but he is lost to the world-" Whatever else he had meant to say, Rei quickly swallowed it, his throat working with the effort. Nitori tried not to appear too predatory watching the bob of his Adam's apple, wanting nothing so much as to nip at the clean lines of his throat. He was high-strung tonight and that invariably translated into a need to touch- violently, tenderly, he couldn't decide which.

Nagisa's challenge still rang in his ears: _Try for him._

And Rei sat there, so stiff and collected, every inch the noble lord's son. Hell's teeth, Nitori wanted nothing more than to take the man apart piece by piece just so he could hear that calm voice break on a squeal, watch that icy composure melt beneath the heat of his skin. Most days it was easy to stifle errant thoughts of stripping Rei out of uniform, thoroughly debauching him until he had no hope of putting himself back to rights. Tonight though, with the scent of harsh chemicals assaulting his nose and the lingering memory of Nagisa's words echoing in his ears, it was a particularly cruel trial for his self-control sitting near enough to feel the heat of Rei's body and yet not being able to _touch_.

Unless?

Yes.

"Then you don't have any pressing commitments?" Nitori tried to keep his tone disinterested, but there was enough mischief in it that Rei visibly pricked up.

Rei clasped his hands firmly in his lap, casting Nitori a shrewd glance. Oh, he knew, but he was not going to tip his hand until he was certain of victory. Rei imagined they were playing a game for Nagisa's affection, never once imagining Nitori might want _him_ as well, and every bit as fiercely.

"I do not." Rei enunciated clearly, sliding farther down into the chair as though perfectly at his ease. He wasn't, not quite, and it didn't take Makoto's gift for reading men to tell Nitori so.

"Good, I need to take your measurements before we make port."

"Measurements?" Mortally offended at the implication that his uniform was anything less than splendidly tailored, Rei straightened the cuffs of his coat, adjusting the way it fit about his shoulders while Nitori looked on in dry-mouthed fascination.

Nitori quickly changed his absent-minded hum of appreciation into one of agreement: "I would like to have a working design for your spectacles before we reach Sanctuary; the materials may be somewhat difficult to come by."

"If it will be too much trouble-"

"Not at all. Stay, it will only take a moment."

 

 

 

Nagisa was rubbing off on him. Rei knew this because a year ago he would never have allowed himself to be so distracted as to meander into an opponent's transparent trap. Which was exactly where he had ended up if Nitori's self-satisfied smile was anything to go by.

He comforted himself that a handful of days ago, Nitori had been no more than the ship's timid mouse all holed up safe in the infirmary. They had been friends then, not rivals, but Nitori was still treating him as though he hadn't stolen a kiss from Nagisa not many hours ago.

There were several possible conclusions. The first: Nitori, a demonstrably capable actor, was deceiving him once more with the intention of stealing Nagisa if he let his guard down. The second: Nitori had only experienced a brief fit of madness brought on by excessive excitement and had forgotten his lapse. The Third: Nagisa had not been entirely truthful-

Whatever it was Nitori had been rooting about for in his cabinet he had clearly found it. Rei found he couldn't muster the resolve to object when Nitori grabbed his hand, briskly pulling him from the chair and leading him to the bed nearest the door. Even the most sheltered of innocents would have balked at being pushed down on the corner of the sheets, a man's firm hands pressing them into sitting. Rei allowed his damnable curiosity to get the better of him, another vestige of Nagisa's influence, he didn't draw the breath to object until Nitori calmly insinuated himself between Rei's knees, stubbornly ignoring a pointed huff.

"You're too close." Rei's voice was muffled in the all-consuming silence. With most of the crew abed and clear skies as far as the eye could see, few things were quieter than the open ocean by night.

"Pardon. You're so tall this is how we must do it."

Rei took leave to doubt that. He wondered not for the first time what sort of damnable game they were playing and what exactly the rules were. For all that Nagisa said Nitori had kissed _him_ , Rei knew a seduction when he stumbled into one. Or, more accurately, was pushed into one none too subtly.

"Nagisa informed me this afternoon that the two of you had reached an understanding."

"An understanding." Nitori repeated, holding a bit of prismatic glass to Rei's eye, watching the way his pupil responded.

Rei stoutly ignored the distraction, mentally compiling a list of questions he would have to pose later. Light was a particular interest of his, its patterns and movement, endless manipulations and seeming lack of mass- it defied any classification, and so naturally it had become the focus of his ever-curious mind. Here this man wielded it to perfection, catching the candlelight and casting its pale glow on the floor, focusing it and dispersing it masterfully so that it alternately blinded him with its brightness and left him in perfect darkness.

He also fought to ignore the way Nitori's face had drawn so close, the warm puff of his breath against roughening skin, the bitter tang of something earthy that still clung to his clothes, the clean, unsalted scent of his hair.

If it were Nagisa, he would have reached out and twined his fist in that tunic, forced a knee between those slender legs and made Nagisa ride him to completion. Nagisa would have done it too, wild and graceful and perfectly unashamed; he would have fisted Rei's hair and whispered every sinful thing he wanted done to his body between words of praise and appreciation. Rei regretted the thought immediately when he felt himself responding to the image.

He regretted it all the more when he realized at some point in his sordid fantasy, Nagisa's golden form had become Nitori's paleness, naked and panting as he rocked against Rei's still-clothed thigh.

It had been an exceptionally trying day; between Nagisa's earlier confession, Nitori's proximity and his own nervous, overwrought mind was it truly any wonder his mind had taken a turn for the sordid?

Rei cast about for something to say, something that would take his mind off Nitori's slender fingers playing across his face and the peculiar heaviness that had settled between them.

Ah, right. The understanding. He followed Nitori with his eyes, but the healer was so distracted Rei wondered if he even remembered their aborted attempt at a conversation. He cleared his throat and tried again.

 

 

 

"If you will permit me to speak bluntly-"

"Always." Nitori didn't mean it for a breathy purr, but that was exactly the sound that left his lips. He tried not to be distracted by the way ever-composed Rei shifted nervously in response.

"Do you have any manner of… _designs_ on Nagisa?"

Nitori stifled a disappointed sigh. He had been looking forward to orchestrating a grand seduction, but here Rei had put him in check. An honest question deserved an honest answer.

"Yes."

Rei's jaw flexed as he swallowed back the first words that rose to his tongue, Nitori watched his Adam's apple bob with the effort of forcing them down. What sort of words though? Angry or surprised? A vehement denial or a warning? Not for the first time Nitori wished he had Mako's gift of reading faces, but for once Rei was a closed book to him. He _hated_ it.

When Rei spoke at last, it was in a subdued, mild tone that said he had heard precisely the answer he was expecting. "I see."

"You don't." Nitori assured him, taking a twitching hand in his own. "I have all manner of designs on him." He leaned in, unable to keep himself from licking his lips in salacious anticipation: "And on you."

"I beg your pardon?" Rei jerked back as though confronted by a venomous serpent, half rising from the bed. Nitori raised a staying hand and with a wary glance Rei began to settle once more. _Curiosity._ Nitori barely prevented himself from smiling at the thought.

"I have no intention of splitting a set, Rei; I doubt any of us would be content then." Nitori saw the light of understanding in his eyes, watched the knowledge warm his cheeks with only the palest of blushes. Guilt. Apparently Nagisa hadn't been the only one eying him, and Rei was no stranger to this arrangement, though it had likely been no more for him than a fantasy to while away a boring watch. That was enough to work with, so long as the thought was already there.

Still somehow Nagisa thought this man needed his protection; he thought Rei wasn't quite his match, that he had stolen someone else's prized possession. Nitori conceded it was difficult at times to reconcile the gentleman with the pirate, but both coexisted comfortably within this man. It was a mistake to neglect either one.

"Then mind you don't." Rei's tone was firm, but hardly defensive.

He waited until Nitori pulled back at last and then rose again, straightening his coat fussily and rearranging his cuffs; Nitori allowed himself a fond quirk of the lips- heaven forbid Ryugazaki Rei should report to his own bed looking anything less than perfectly put together. It was easy enough to steal an officer from his ship, but imperial officer he remained in habit if not in truth.

His heart beat faster when Rei glanced at him once more, lips pursing thoughtfully, eyes shrewd. "No, I'm afraid I can't leave it there." Nitori was wise enough to bide his time, watching as Rei struggled with all the questions he couldn't bring himself to voice aloud. At last he found one among all of them that neatly summed up his quandary: "What game are you playing at, Aiichirou?"

His _name_. His hated name. It was a calculated maneuver, one Rei must have thought would provoke him into the honesty of wrath. Instead Nitori was pleased by how easily the syllables slipped from Rei's lips and intrigued by the unaccustomed display of ruthlessness.

"You have been in Nagisa's company far too long."

He didn't offer anything more. Whatever conclusion Rei drew from his words he did not share, only bowed- gracious as ever- and cast Nitori a last wondering look. He left as abruptly as he had come, and Nitori was once again alone with his memories, though these were infinitely more welcoming.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

She was tall for a woman. Pretty in the classical sense, with a hint of coquetry in her stance even their dire straits had done nothing to temper. Kou tried not to loathe her on sight, but Sei's eyes had not wavered for more than a minute since he first set eyes on her. She couldn't hear their exchange; Sei had only permitted her to accompany his shore crew on the very strict provision that she remain at Momotarou's side at all times. Since Momotarou had insisted on remaining near the dinghy, that left her several yards away from her captain. And he _was_ hers. The trouble was he didn't know it yet, and neither did this brazen woman.

"It's only politics." Momo drawled, sensing her unease.

"I know," she snapped, embarrassed to be caught in such a childish display of jealousy.

It was made all the worse for knowing she had no grounds for this temper. Once they had her brother firmly in hand, she and Sei would part ways. It was highly unlikely she would ever see him again, and in time she would become no more than a tale to tell over a few too many glasses. A quaint little woman that had once thoroughly disarranged all his best-laid plans while he tracked a notorious pirate. Rin would likely even make the center-piece of the story, Kou herself no more than an afterthought.

She wasn't angry at the woman, Kou acknowledged, only frustrated with her own impotence. How much longer would she be forcefully kept out of harm's way? How much longer would he insist on _coddling_ her? Until that ended, she would be no more than his duty and no man could love the weight of his burdens. She banished the thought on a puff of air, playing idly with a loose curl. Their journey was not over, and there would be ample opportunity for proving herself his match. She only needed to have an eye for her chance.

"Kou." Sei called softly. It was all the invitation she needed to fly across the sand, mood banished with only a word. She was _Kou_ now, finally a lady in his books and that was half the battle won.

"Captain?" She chirped, stopping at his side so quickly dirt scattered around her feet. Up close, the woman was more than pretty- she had a mature grace about her that Kou could not help but envy, and a spark in her eye that Kou knew well from her own reflection. It did not set her at ease. After all, she was a merchant heiress that had secreted herself aboard an imperial vessel. What might this woman, who had no such pretensions, do if she were backed into a corner?

"You must make an exception, I'm afraid. This is Matsuoka Kou, the _Samezuka_ 's cabin girl and my ward; I cannot accompany you without her."

"I spend a few years away from the mainland and the navy begins recruiting women? Maybe I should visit more often." The teasing glint in her eye vanished: "Did you say Matsuoka? They're _related_?"

Before Kou could do more than gape in open-mouthed disbelief, Sei had pushed her behind him, one arm held out protectively while the other freed his sword from its sheathe with a threatening _snick_.

"Kou is Rin's sister, not his accomplice. And you gave your word this would be neutral ground."

The woman laughed, waving a dismissive hand, "Sheathe your claws, captain. If he abandoned her once I don't think it would be any trouble for him to do it again."

Kou sucked in a breath as her heart seemed to skip a beat, chest clenching painfully. They had been close once, Rin and she, before he began taking over the duties expected of an heir. As the years went on they had begun to drift apart, he spending every moment of his time either learning the family business or 'sneaking' to the pleasure quarter as most men his age were wont to do. It had been two days before Kou had even remarked his absence as something out of the ordinary. Whether this woman had intended her words for cruelty or not, they had surely found their mark.

"What is your interest in my brother?" Kou blinked quickly, banishing the tears before they had a chance to form. They were only words, truthful ones no less.

"Kou." Sei began, slanting her a warning look over his shoulder. She regretted her outburst immediately; she had betrayed an exception to the absolutism of his commands and this woman might not think well of him for it.

"He took something from me."

"As pirates do." Sei cut in, neatly stepping back into the conversation. "Kou, this is Amakata Miho. She has agreed to loan us a ship in exchange for a few small considerations."

"I would have your written word that you agree to our terms."

"Of course. I must return to my ship tonight and gather supplies, but I will join you here come morning to finalize the agreement."

"Do you intend to leave your woman as surety?"

"Do you intend to insult me by calling my word into question?"

Kou was grateful the failing light hid the blush that tinged her cheeks. Particularly when the silence stretched on long enough to become tense. A glance was enough to assure her that Momo was keeping careful watch, ready to dash to them at a moment's notice. But the woman's- Miho's- men looked equally ready to join the fray.

After a moment Miho shrugged, and even that unladylike gesture appeared elegant and self-assured. "I will not pretend that we could match you, but I suppose since we are embarking on this venture together a little trust would not be misplaced.

"Just so." Sei agreed, one hand coming to rest thoughtlessly on Kou's shoulder and squeezing a reassurance. "From tomorrow on we will be in your care." He bowed and Kou quickly followed suit, making sure her head was only a little lower.

The short trip back to the ship seemed like hours to Kou's anxious mind. When she tried to take an oar, Sei had briskly waved her away and settled in beside his mate to work in tandem. She was left with nothing to do but clench her fists in the cloth of her trousers and watch their muscles work beneath their stifling overcoats. Not that the latter was such a terrible trial, only Miho was watching them depart from the shore and she would not have it said that she was a pampered layabout.

"Where are we going?" She asked once they were safely out of earshot, fixing an inquiring gaze on Sei.

"To find your brother." He grinned boyishly, not the least bit put off by her scowl.

Of course. Why ever had she expected anything more than a cryptic answer? In a past life he must have been an oracle.

"With Miho? I thought you said you wouldn't make your crew venture any farther beyond imperial writ."

"She's right." Momotarou chipped in, "What sort of infernal bargain have you struck now, Sei? You look devilishly pleased with yourself."

Sei hummed his agreement, "We have secured a ship and a crew, all for a promise of discretion. Meaning, Momo, when this makes its way into our reports you will refer to these people only as imperial subjects. No need to mark a heading."

"Then it _is_ an unauthorized colony."

"Of course not. I would be required to report that." He slanted a telling look at his first mate, still full of the devil's own cunning.

"And we depart tomorrow? Who will take charge of the _Samezuka_?"

Sei covered a wince, well enough that anyone but his brother might have missed it. Being his brother, Momo did not. "You were going to leave me."

"That I leave to you. My authority extends only so far as imperial writ. I cannot compel you to accompany me."

"If you think I will abandon my own flesh and blood to take up with god knows what kind of _savages_ you are sorely mistaken."

"As a captain, I would rather have left my first mate to keep watch over my ship. As a brother, I expected nothing less than your absolute lack of cooperation. For which I am grateful." He finished, becoming more subdued. "Miho has asked to bring along four of her own, and I dislike being outnumbered even by allies. This way, someone will always be available to keep watch over Kou while another keeps an eye out to ensure our allies stay allies."

Kou bristled at the implication that she required a keeper. She drew herself up to her full sitting height, unimpressive as it was, and glared. "You will still be outnumbered."

"But hardly outclassed." Momo added, ruffled feathers soothed now after Sei's concession.

Seeing the identical boyish grins splitting their faces, Kou surrendered any hope of convincing them otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, every time I update my chapter count disappears. My plan is still 21. This is flexible, but I will post a note if that should ever change. :)


	17. Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto remembers, Haru does not, but he _is_ seeing things.
> 
> Rin would like to know what the hell is going on aboard his ship these days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See that supernatural elements tag? It's finally here, folks! :P
> 
> Seriously though, chapter warning for child abuse. Mostly glossed over, described in a little detail in a couple instances.
> 
> I want to make it clear that by the time Mako's piece gets to anything even vaguely suggestive, he is of age and on board. No minors and/or dubcon/noncon involved just in case it's not perfectly clear.
> 
> (Also, while "Nezumi" does mean mouse, it will be used here as a name, whereas when you see "mouse" it's more of an epithet.)

Makoto was the first to wake. His shoulder ached fiercely, and he swore he could still feel the imprint of Haru's teeth there. Gently, so as not to wake the men sharing the bed, he reached up to tease at the skin there, feeling the raised welt with questing fingertips. Rin stirred, eyes opening only slightly before the weight of sleep pulled them closed once more. They had slept the night through in a bed with an enemy, and somehow both of them were here to see the morning.

Cautiously, he shifted his weight enough that he could see Haru, sprawled bonelessly just behind Rin. Mako smiled thinly: he slept like a child, arms thrown above his head and around the pillow to hug it desperately to him, his mouth open just a little, enough for Mako to hear the small puff of air every time he exhaled. Rin might have been his perfect twin, legs twined with Mako's and arms occupying what little free space was left. Mako vaguely recalled waking once or twice after a sharp buffet from twitching hands. There was hardly enough space left for him, one leg dangling in open air, back arched forward to keep from upsetting his precarious balance lest he fall to the floor.

If they were going to keep Haru, the first item of business would be finding a bigger bed.

Mako gently untangled himself, avoiding Rin's sleepy attempt to pull him back down. He made his way to chest buckled securely at the foot of their bed, tsking at the sight of his ruined clothes. It was just as well he had been wearing coarse linen. If Rin had damaged what precious silks he had left, Mako would cheerfully have gutted him. He flipped the lid open, sifting through their combined belongings, pausing for a moment to rub a jade green robe between his fingertips. He wanted to wear silks for Haru someday, wanted the young man to see him in all his finery and tremble with lust and nerves.

He wondered at the stray thought, casting the robe away from him as though it had become a hissing viper. Instead he reached for the coarse linen once more, the nondescript eggshell shirt and the tanned pants.

They had taken him apart last night, reduced him to a creature of instinct whose fear had risen too close to the surface for comfort. Makoto still wasn't certain what to make of it. Some traitorous little voice craved it, whispered that he had needed it for too long, but the memory was enough to make his breath come short with a mixture of shame and nervousness that was not wholly unpleasant.

A lifetime he had spent in the pursuit of power, courting invulnerability the way some men courted death, and Rin had stripped him of that dear illusion he had been at such pains to cultivate. That he had done so with the help of a man Mako had been certain he could control made it all the more viscerally terrifying. That he had submitted, even enjoyed it, confused the hell out of him. Rin and he had played their games, but always Mako had known the power lay in his hands. Last night the thought had never even occurred to him.

He dressed quickly. Pants, shirt, the knife that lay next to Haru on the scored floorboards. It was early yet, he could feel that in the chill bite of the air and see it in the dimness of the cabin. He would take some air on deck before the rest of the crew woke and by the time Rin joined him, he would have his errant thoughts under his exacting command once more.

False dawn cast an eerie light across the deck, the soft wind stinging his cheeks with salt and cold. Makoto breathed deeply, allowing a solemn smile to grace his lips. Even Rin had seldom seen the expression, since it didn't usually rest comfortably on Mako's expressive face. It felt right this morning though, as did the creeping sense of bittersweet nostalgia stealing up on him. It was his own fault, letting himself be drawn into such games last night, thinking that he could play them unscathed.

It had reopened doors in the corridors of his mind that Mako rarely dared to venture into without the comfort of good sake and a night alone.

Helplessness, weakness was not a trait he had ever associated with 'Makoto'. Tachibana Makoto was lethal, whether he was in the employ of the imperial navy or taking up with pirates. The occasional brush with death or high water had shaken him a time or two to be sure, but never so much that it had robbed him of the absolute certainty of his own power. Live or die, he had always made sure it would be by his will alone.

Makoto had always believed that, at least.

As a boy, though… well, there was a reason he had taken a name of his own choosing upon his coming of age.

 

* * *

 

 

Sometimes, if he slowed his breathing until he could hardly hear it and stood absolutely still, Nezumi could remember his mother's voice. It was an important ritual, this moment of stillness. He practiced it every night in the hour after the last of his chores but before one of the sisters shooed him to bed. Perhaps if he had learned this trick sooner, he would still be able to recall her face. Having nothing else to remember, he always took especial care to be certain he had captured every subtle nuance of her voice in his memory.

Ayame returned too soon, shielding a light with one delicate hand. "You should be sleeping," she whispered, and the last of his illusion was dispelled.

Nezumi tried not be angry at her. This exercise was his secret, and Ayame was his favorite of all the sisters.

"I'm not tired." He groused, allowing her to chivvy him to the futon anyway. She knew he was lying, it was a struggle just to keep his eyes open let alone cross the short distance to his mat, but Ayame only laughed. That was why he liked her best; it never felt like she was laughing at him.

She hummed a soft melody, carding her fingers through his hair like she did every night while he rested his head in her lap, determined that she wouldn't sneak away and leave him alone tonight.

"What were you and Mother talking about?" Mika wasn't his mother and it still felt wrong to call her so, but all the other girls did, as did most of the men that frequented her small establishment.

He heard Ayame's breath catch, felt her fingers falter in their steady motions. "It was nothing you need to worry about."

Her breathy chuckle sounded false to his ears.

"Then what was it?" He insisted, worry dispelling some of his fatigue.

"You're always so curious." For once the words did not sound remotely teasing.

Nezumi tried to push himself up, wanting to see her face the next time she tried to lie to him, but Ayame foiled him once more by the simple expedient of gathering him up into her voluminous sleeves and resting her chin on his head. He squirmed and writhed in vain, doing battle with her crushing grip and the heavy fabric, annoyed when she easily subdued him. He hissed at her like the fat tabby in the kitchen always hissed at him when he played with its tail, catching her hand to keep her from patting his head any more.

"Why are you lying to me?" He hated liars with all the passion he was capable of mustering at his young age, and Ayame knew it. That made her betrayal all the more cutting.

He felt more than heard her sigh, nearly squeaking when her grip tightened with bruising force. "I am not lying." She slipped back into her proper speech, professional mask falling smoothly into place.

He hated that too, hated the doll-still smiles all the girls wore when the sun set, hated the way they dismissed him when only a moment before they had been laughing and smiling together.

"You have never liked it here, Nezumi."

"That's not true." It wasn't. He loved Ayame, he loved the fat, mean tabby in the kitchen and the old man who delivered their food- always careful to slip in a sweet or two for greedy. little hands. He loved the feel of Nahomi's tortoiseshell comb brushing the knots out of his hair while he breathed in the scent of the cloying perfumes all the sisters wore as it mingled with the lighter smell of incense. He even enjoyed his chores, carrying the water and fetching drinks, mending the tears in workaday clothes.

"It is not your home." That was true, but Nezumi wasn't sure where home was to begin with. He knew enough to know the scars winding about his wrists meant he hadn't left by choice, but whether his parents had sold him or if there was a home out there waiting for him, he didn't know. He didn't really care either, but saying that only made Ayame sad, so he swallowed the words as he had always done.

Suddenly he knew why Ayame was lying, and the realization sent a cold pang of fear racing through him. "I want to stay here."

He wasn't fighting to get away anymore, instead he twined his arms about her as firmly as he could and buried his face in her sleeves lest she see the way his eyes had teared up with panic.

"Now, you're much too good for that." Her speech grew warm and familiar again, but he could still hear the distance- in her thoughts he was already gone.

"I'm not, I want to stay."

"And do what? Fetch water and whisper secrets in Mother's ear forever? You're meant for better, you always were."

He was getting a little old for the eavesdropping game; Mother said it was because he was getting so tall and strong she had other uses for him now. Nezumi knew she was lying though, he always knew; he had seen the way her already sickly pale skin blanched when he had read aloud the spider-script on one of her little slips of paper. He had felt her hand trembling from more than age when she pressed it into his hand and told him to carry it to the shrine.

Most of the girls could not read, Nezumi had understood then that he wasn't meant to either.

"I'm sorry." His voice broke on a sob that he couldn't entirely stifle with his fist. "If I tell her I'm sorry will she let me stay?"

"You haven't done anything wrong, you're just so smart-"

"I'm sorry. I won't do it again." Mother would never believe that though. By now she probably knew about all the little papers he kept tucked in the tree by the well. She had probably found the precious ink he had squirreled away and all the little stones that betrayed his early efforts. Nezumi had known better than to steal, he had known better than to play when he should be working, and this was going to be his punishment: he was going to lose his home again.

"Hush. We don't want to wake anyone."

Nezumi wanted to wake everyone, but he bit his tongue and curled in still closer. "Don't make me leave."

Ayame drew a sharp breath when his nails dug into her ribs, the wetness of his tears finally seeping through silk. She could feel him shaking under her hands, but telling him so would only injure his pride.

"Listen to me, this is a very great honor for you and for this house."

"Getting rid of me?"

"No, silly boy." She pinched his side, forcing a surprised giggle out of him. "The man who came for you is well-placed. He's going to teach you more than we ever could."

"I don't care!" Nezumi didn't even try to stifle his sobs anymore, gasping and heaving with distress, though he could see the beginning of fear on Ayame's face. Good. Let her worry, she was the one that was allowing him to be sent away.

"You're going to be a very great man someday, and then you will look back on tonight and wonder why you ever wanted to stay."

"Liar." His sobs turned to wails, only barely muffled in Ayame's stomach. Nezumi slid down even further, resting his head in her lap again as he always had done, forcing her hand to his head in the hope that she would pet him again, croon her lullabies and forget about ever sending him away.

He knew it was a losing battle when he felt another warm teardrop land on his face, this one not his own, just as she began her broken humming again.

 

 

 

"Tread softly, careful not to wake him." Ayame's hushed voice brought him back to consciousness, and he immediately wished he could have slept even a minute longer.

"What is the matter with him?" Mother's dry voice grated on his ears, adding to the splitting headache pounding behind his eyes.

His face was dry and too hot, every bone and muscle in his body ached viciously. Nezumi was certain he didn't have a tear left to shed, his eyes hot and hurting fit to burn in their sockets, but he was calm.

"He is ill. The news came as such a shock…"

"I doubt that." Mother returned archly. "Much like his namesake he is everywhere, often least where you expect- or want- to find him."

Mouse. Mother had been the one to name him, fondly then, running her fingers enviously through his hair, tilting his face up to admire his green eyes. He had been even smaller, thin to the point of emaciation after so long without a proper meal. She had taken one look at his shrinking form, seen the way he instinctively evaded her touch, and dubbed him that most timid of creatures. In his early months it had only been a pet name, said in fond tones by most of his sisters, usually with a touch of asperity whenever Mother spoke to him.

Now he wasn't certain whether he had come to them with a name that they had stolen or whether he had lost it long before he ever set foot here.

"You should have your breakfast, Ayame, it won't keep long."

"But-"

"Go. I will take care of him."

Nezumi could hear the reluctance in Ayame's departing steps, but she knew better than to object in so many words.

"I know you're awake, boy, it's no use playing dead."

"It hurts." He explained, clutching at the cool cloth Ayame had laid across his eyes in a vain attempt to soothe the sting.

"Whose fault is that? Come, take the cloth away and sit up for me."

He grudgingly obeyed, wincing at the renewed throbbing in his temples; he couldn't recall ever hurting this much in his young life. Mother helped him, bracing his back against her arm when dizziness nearly overtook him. She was fond of him, in her own way, but affection had never overcome good business sense in this woman.

She murmured discontentedly, brushing the cloth across his swollen eyes. "We need to clean you up, your master will be here soon."

"My master." Nezumi repeated flatly. He knew he belonged to this house, as much as any one of the sisters, but it had never been spoken aloud so plainly before. He didn't like it. Mother had permitted him the run of this house, even sent him on errands outside the red light district sometimes; he had his freedom, more than most children his age, and with a single word she had taken it from him.

She seemed to sense his thoughts and paused long enough to lock gazes with him, willing him to understand. "Every man serves a master, mouse. You are fortunate to know whom you serve."

Nezumi did not speak again, he heard the finality in her voice and knew any objections would be swiftly dismissed if they were heard at all. He would not be reduced to begging. Instead he met Mother's eyes, not uttering so much as a word of protest when she began to bathe his face again, neither when the girls brought in his clean clothes- neither one of them Ayame. He dressed in silence behind the screen, memorizing the painting there: fantastical birds and soaring mountains, things he had never seen except from afar. He never would see them either, not if he stayed here.

It was with a renewed determination that he stepped out to face her again, clean and dressed and dry-eyed.

 

 

For all his outward appearance of courage, it took everything Nezumi had not to hide behind Mother when he met the man. In his thoughts at least, he refused to call the man 'master.'

He was tall, Nezumi thought, a little too tall, with a stomach just starting to turn to fat. In all other respects he was thoroughly unremarkable: every thread was tailored to suggest modest means, his smile was benign but did not invite any conversation. Even his unkempt hair seemed to have a touch of artistry about it, as though to suggest he had not deliberately arranged such a thoroughly inoffensive appearance.

Never, for as far back as Nezumi could remember, had he feared anyone on sight as much as he did then.

He didn't hear the words they spoke over his head, every ounce of his attention devoted to trying to see what it was that set his skin to prickling with dread or his heart pounding fit to beat out of his chest. He hardly registered anything at all until the man took his hand.

Nezumi lurched back violently, unconsciously rubbing his hand on his sleeve. The man feigned indifference, laughed even, but Nezumi could nearly hear his instincts whispering lie. He would have run then, but his legs had turned to stone and would not obey, not even when the man reached out to take his hand again, firmer this time. His grip might as well have been the manacle that had left the first scar on Nezumi's wrist, but far less forgiving. Then he could move again, pulled along in the man's wake, struggling to keep up with the man's long-legged stride. The effort left him breathless, and when he tried to look back to his home once more it cost him his balance, would have sent him stumbling into the dirt if the man had not taken such a solid grip.

At least with his eyes as dried out as they were, the man couldn't see him cry.

 

 

 

Nezumi called him 'sir'. He had never asked for a name and the man had never given it. After months serving as the man's whipping post, Nezumi had learned he wore all manner of names with ease, some of them even foreign enough that Nezumi's tongue would have refused to shape them if he tried.

He hated the man most when he used those names, hated that he could not understand a word he spoke to his acquaintances: men and women dressed as nondescriptly as he, whose voices were always hushed even when they were alone, who never drank the tea the man always bade him to bring. Sometimes he was allowed to leave the room, but never to go far, only to sit and listen through the doors and walls, gleaning what he could. He would repeat the words back verbatim upon command and the man would ink them in precise script upon O-Mikuji that Nezumi would tie to the tree at the shrine. He was not supposed to read them, of course, but even when he had dared anyway, the words held no meaning for him.

It made the cane smart that much more, knowing that he had gained nothing from it, and somehow the man always knew.

He was learning though. No longer was he forced to practice his script on stones or in the dirt, and he had seen the improvement in his work even as the man denied it. Unfortunately the days were not all filled with writing and literature: he could pour the tea now according to the man's exacting standards. It had not taken him long to learn when every mistake meant the hot tea being poured over his fingers. More than once the healer had been summoned to tend his burns, but the man never spoke as he lathered on the ointment, never even met Nezumi's eyes when he could help it. He was stronger too, strong enough to lift the lead-weighted bokken without his arms trembling from effort, strong enough to run from one of the end of the market to the other over and over without being short of breath.

Sometimes his master set him to snatching petty baubles; a purse here, a comb there, and slipping them to unsuspecting customers. He enjoyed the mischief, even knowing he was not practicing it for anything so lighthearted as tricks. In just such a way had he acquired his most prized possessions: the two goldfish that swam lazily in a vase near his futon. Nezumi had almost feared taking them back, wondering if the man might not make him eat them the next time he made a mistake, but the man had only waved Nezumi away, too preoccupied to care that the boy had brought treasure home.

He made time to visit the old man that had given him the fish whenever he could. It was one of the few times he felt like 'Nezumi' again, not that he was ever permitted the same name from place to place. It changed according to whether he was in the market, at the docks, paying his respect at the shrine or attending lessons at the temple school. The man always called him 'mouse' though, a constant reminder that he must always make himself small, that his continued usefulness- and therefore survival, hinged upon his ability to go unnoticed.

Always Nezumi remembered to be one of a thousand faces, never the one anyone sought. He loved it, loved becoming the bright, inquisitive 'Kotaro' at the temple school, loved being the shy, retiring 'Shin' at the docks, but he loved being 'Makoto' most: a little too brave, a bit playful, outspoken for his age. Makoto could sit with the old fisherman for hours, listening to his tales of the sea or eagerly devouring stolen sweets while he showed off some of the new skills he had been at such pains to learn. The man would not have approved, so Nezumi did not tell him, just as he did not tell the fisherman why he moved stiffly some days, or why he always seemed to be bandaged somewhere.

Much as he hated liars, Nezumi was finally learning the art of deceit.

 

 

The wind was howling fit to blow their little house down, but Nezumi no longer feared storms. He had faced far more dangerous hardships since his days with Ayame, and thunder was no longer half so daunting as the prospect of dealing with the man when he was drunk.

Nezumi had tried to sneak the sake away several times, but the man would not be deterred. Whatever news he'd had from the merchant did not please him.

"You're getting slow, boy. Another cup."

"Yes, sir." Nezumi murmured, meek as his namesake. On nights like this it was always best to obey hastily and without question. He didn't even try to drop the 'sir'; that earned him punishment enough when the man was sober. The high color in his cheeks and the slight distortion of his words warned Nezumi tonight he was anything but.

"This is thankless work you are learning, and it will probably be the death of you." The man laughed softly. Nezumi had never heard him do anything loudly, even his infrequent fits of fury were silent. Most men found that far more terrifying than yelling and violence, he had learned, himself included.

"But someone must do it." He finished, serious again. Nezumi didn't trust these mercurial moods; they could end with anything from a savage and frighteningly efficient thrashing to an almost fond pat on the head and an offer to have a sip of the man's drink. Nezumi promised himself he would never drink the foul stuff again once he was free, and he would be free. The man had promised him once his teaching was done he would be as free a man as had ever walked under the sun. Assuming he survived that long. Nezumi knew there had been others before him who had not, but the man had conceded that of all his pupils, Nezumi was the quickest and most eager to learn.

They sat in silence for a long hour, only the rumble of thunder and keening wind to accompany their thoughts before the man spoke again: "You will leave in three days, Nezumi. Take nothing with you, not even your name."

Nezumi's heart soared at the prospect of leaving this place. He would gladly go anywhere else, never mind the man's dire warnings of there always being far worse.

Cautiously, acutely aware that he was taking his life into his hands, Nezumi ventured a question, "May I go to the market tomorrow?"

The man did not answer, perhaps he had not heard, but Nezumi could not find the courage to risk a question again. He proffered his cup and Nezumi filled it once more, gracefully, carefully; if he spilled the sake the man would make him lick it up lest it be wasted. The first time it happened, he had taken his meals from the floor for three days- clumsy beasts could not eat like people. His stomach still churned with the memory, so he quickly blocked it out, using every ploy he had been so keen to master in his days here.

"You want to say goodbye." It was not a question, but Nezumi knew it was the answer to his. The man was not happy, but he did not sound angry either, only disappointed perhaps. Nezumi had heard that tone often enough to recognize it with reasonable certainty. He held his breath, waiting expectantly.

"You're still a thick-headed fool, aren't you, mouse?"

"Yes, sir."

"I waste my time with you." The man whispered into his cup.

He tried to take another sip only to find it empty; Nezumi knew that his training had not been entirely useless because he predicted exactly where the cup would strike him and adjusted his stance so that it shattered against his forehead above his left eye. The world sparked and danced before his eyes, warm blood seeped between his fingers when he calmly pressed a hand to it. The man was rarely so careless as to make him bleed in such a noticeable place, but it was not so infrequent as to startle him any more. In time he hoped he would be quick enough to dodge the projectiles completely.

"Damn it." The man staggered to his feet; he ignored the way Nezumi shied from him, twining a hand in his hair and forcing him to submit to ungentle prodding. "You need stitches. If you had been a little faster on your feet, you wouldn't be hurt at all." He sighed, "That's my fault. I've been too easy with you."

"It _is_ your fault." Nezumi agreed, "Watch your temper." The words left his lips before he could clamp his teeth shut on them, and he regretted them before they even slipped past his traitorous lips. He regretted it all the more when the man's fist met his ear, nearly destabilizing him enough to make him fall. Nezumi stubbornly remained on his feet, though the world spun wildly around him. He was proud even if the man was not, a year ago he would have hit the unforgiving floor after such a blow.

"Did you say something?"

"No, sir."

The silence between them stretched taut. Nezumi did not dare to glance away; he had the sense that if he did, he would end up like the other apprentices.

"Go."

Nezumi turned and ran as fast as he could, not stopping until he had found a small, quiet corner. Somewhere he was certain even his master, for master he was, would not look for him.

 

 

Three days Nezumi secreted himself in the house, moving quietly and staying out of sight, giving his master's temper time to abate. He had tried to stitch the cut himself, taking a strange comfort in the bite of pain, but his own hands defeated him, unaccustomed to the delicate work. It was no great matter to make his way to the surgeon, and once more the man never met his eyes. Not for the first time, Nezumi tried to bait him into conversation, another challenge he had issued himself, another way to hone the skills that would one day free him.

"Are you going to tell him I was here?" No need to clarify who 'he' was, the surgeon never called him by name either.

A noncommittal hum was the only answer he received, but Nezumi read sympathy in the disapproving curve of the man's lips. The hand on his forehead gentled too, but only a little.

"I'm sorry for waking you early." An apology opened doors even a compliment could not. His master had not taught him that, but he had often used it to his advantage.

"Don't be."

At last! The first words he had ever heard from the healer's lips. Nezumi's heart swelled with victory, the price he had paid in blood made it all the more precious.

That didn't stop him from flinching when the surgeon rested a solid hand on his shoulder, "Just be more careful next time."

Nezumi laughed, taken aback by the first tinge of bitterness he heard seeping into the sound. They both knew there would be a next time, and they both knew the next time might be the last if he was not clever or if he moved just a shade too slow. But Nezumi knew in his bones he would not die that way. He was not going to die a slave, he had promised himself that much as he jogged to this ramshackle little home, hand still pressed to his head and blood running down past the ever fading scars on his wrist to his elbow. Someday those scars would disappear completely, and with them any obligation he had to acknowledge a master.

He took his leave, warm tea in his belly and a light feeling in his heart, to say his goodbyes before he left everyone he knew again.

Except the old man was not at his stall, it sat boarded up and empty. Nezumi made himself comfortable in the mud in front of it, playing with the strays that always lingered in this part of the market looking for unwary customers or stray scraps. He remembered the fat tabby and the lessons its claws had taught him, careful not to tug their tails too hard. When they left, looking for someone more willing to share scraps, he began to play with the pebbles and mud as he had not since he had first come to live with the man. The hours wore on, false dawn giving way to sunlight, other merchants were beginning to set up but still the old fisherman did not come.

It was strange, enough so to leave Nezumi wrestling with a vague feeling of unease that grew heavier with every passing hour. He hoped his master had slept overlong after indulging so much last night or his next beating would come far sooner than he had expected. By the time the sun was peaking up over the horizon, busy shoppers finally beginning to pour into the street, he knew he had to leave.

He heard the news from the woman who sold hairpins near the Eastern corner, about the storm and the ships wrecked even as they were tied in harbor, about the ships that hadn't even made it back to the harbor so quickly had the storm blown up. Among them, of course, his fisherman.

For the first time since the day he had left his home, Nezumi cried himself to sleep in the small hours of the night, the only time he thought maybe his master would not hear him.

 

 

Thereafter Nezumi was diligent in his studies: literature, combat, the million and one trickeries his master practiced on a daily basis, he learned them all one by one with a dedication that impressed the old bastard. And he was growing old- even he used henna to conceal the white hairs and adjusted his posture to seem like that of a much younger man, Nezumi could read his age in the slope of his shoulders and the lines near his eyes he could never quite hide. He knew what the man intended for him, could see it in every resentful glance, every half-concealed sneer. The punishments too grew far more creative- at once more painful yet leaving fewer marks upon his skin.

Nezumi showed every sign of becoming a beauty, and he had learned enough of the world he moved in to know that too could become a weapon, one his master was hesitant to tarnish.

It came as no surprise then when the man told him he was going home. Back to the establishment, back to his sisters and Mother for the last of his training.

For a few precious months, Nezumi felt warm again: Mother was still as stern as he remembered, but she had a fair hand that she never raised to him. Ayame had wept to see that he now stood head and shoulders above her, baby fat replaced by wiry strength and an edge to his smile that dulled the sweetness only somewhat. He could hardly bring himself to touch her with his soiled hands, but she cupped his face as she had always done, brushing her fingers wonderingly over his cheekbones and eyes, cooing over him like he was still the boy of all those years ago.

He surrendered to the illusion, just for a little while. Just while he mastered music and dance, the come-hither stares and inviting words that were the stock-in-trade of whores all the world over. Nezumi knew the names now, saw all the dirty little secrets his child eyes had glanced over or dismissed, and he welcomed it, reveled in it far more than his master would approve of. With a heated glance he could make men and women love him, beg to serve him and do as he pleased. With a cold word he could break their hearts and leave them scrambling to find some way back into his good graces. He sent one of the girls to the shrine nearly every other night, information flowing as easily as the sake he poured so beautifully. His fingers remembered the searing hot tea, the memory coming to him with a tinge of fondness to it. He was more graceful than any one of the trained courtesans, and he owed it to years spent suffering for his imperfections.

By the time he returned to his master, he had found a name for himself: Makoto after the child he had been, the one who hated lies yet stole sweets to eat while he told them so capably, and 'Tachibana', a name he had borrowed from Ayame. It was the family name she no longer had a use for, and a reminder that he had made a comfortable home for himself in this treacherous, false world.

At least he had been foolish enough to think so: Tachibana Makoto, taken in by his own lies.

 

* * *

 

 

 

"I think we ought to tie him to our bed, don't you?"

Long practice kept Makoto from leaping out of his skin, but only just. He fixed Rin with a cool stare, disregarding the devilish grin Rin flashed him in return. The fact that he had thought much the same thing not an hour past was irrelevant.

"You're angry with me." There was a question in the words, genuine hurt gathering between Rin's brows; Makoto banished it with a simple shake of his head.

"No, but I am still not sure what to make of your games."

It was hovering on the tip of Rin's tongue to say Mako had started it, he could see that much and it finally brought a smile to his face, instantly warming his chilly features. Rin relaxed imperceptibly.

"I thought you would object if I took it too far."

"I would have if you had."

"Then?"

"I am not sure how you thought I could keep any sort of control over the man when he's fucked both of us."

"I don't think that's going to be much of a problem." Rin shrugged carelessly, "You of all people know there's more than one way to keep a man in chains."

"If you think for a moment he's not dangerous any longer just because you've fondled his cock, then you must not have thought much of me when I was a whore, hm?"

Rin blew his bangs out of his eyes with an annoyed huff, "That's different."

"You're right. I was your accomplice."

They stood in silence watching the sun come up, neither one willing to be the first to break the moment with idle chatter. The ship was waking up, cabin boys already darting about the deck setting it to rights. Makoto spotted Rei clambering out of crew quarters to make his dogged way to the galley, he looked vaguely haunted and for once Nagisa wasn't frolicking at his heels. Interesting.

"I think once Haru has a chance to cool his head, he'll realize we all want the same thing."

"Health, wealth, and the fear of our enemies?"

"Power. The man has been living on that damned island for longer than anyone knows, making himself fat and rich off its spoils. He won. He chased us off his precious island, yet he pursued. Why? He is bored, Makoto, it's not a challenge any longer."

Makoto smiled, tilting his face up to glance at the sunlight painting the clouds. For Rin it would always be a matter of power, and wealth was the only power he acknowledged, greedy creature. Mako knew better; power, the only true power, lay in self-determination, and that could not be bought with anything so cheap as coin. Rin was half-right, but on that key point he was dead wrong.

"Not bored, _furious_. We invaded paradise, that illusion is permanently shattered for him now. He'll never forgive us for it. Not completely. And there will be no going back either, whether he realizes that yet or not."

Rin shook his head, "It all amounts to the same thing in the end, he'll never be content to return; so in this I suppose we must agree to disagree."

"Stubborn." Makoto hissed fondly.

"Captain." Rin returned with a grin.

 

* * *

 

 

When Haruka woke, he was alone. The sheets were still warm with residual body-heat; he couldn't help pulling a face when he woke up enough to see some of the stains setting. Makoto struck him as a fastidious man, hopefully they would sleep on clean sheets tonight.

The casual assumption that he would be sharing their bed again stole the breath from him for a few seconds. When exactly had he made that decision? Why?

He stretched, feeling aches and pains that nevertheless hummed with the memory of pleasure. What had begun as a battle of wills had certainly turned out to be enjoyable, for all of them if Rin and Makoto's peculiar playfulness had been anything to go by. But that did not make them friends, they were still very much the enemy and never mind that he had indulged a vicious whim last night. The body could go all manner of places that the mind need not follow. It did not change the fact that he would be seeking out old friends once they made Sanctuary, arranging for his passage home and possibly a nasty surprise for this ship and its crew.

It wouldn't do for them to think they could cross him and emerge unscathed for the sake of a few good fucks. Still, the entire experience had left him profoundly disconcerted. It had been easy, too easy to fall into their rhythm, they had meshed as easily as if there had been years of these nights between them rather than that being the first. Haru wasn't sure what to make of how easily he had yielded, wasn't sure what to think of Makoto offering himself so willingly at Rin's words or how much he had enjoyed the captain's body even as he seethed at the thought of what the man had done to him.

He wanted to fuck Rin again, this time without the protection Makoto's presence had afforded him. He wanted to pry him apart, force him to bare all those tempting vulnerabilities Mako had permitted him to hide last night and imprint his anger and lust all over Rin's skin.

Of course it would not be that easy, but Haruka was sure he would enjoy the challenge. As for Makoto… Haruka wasn't sure he had the skill to play that deep a game, but even if he lost the results were sure to be spectacular.

He rose, padding over to the cooled tub in search of the wash cloth; he needed to bathe, whether the water was cold and used or not. His reflection in the water gazed back, features still and serene but eyes sparking with something like mischief, just a bit of malice to it. There was more life in the expression than he had seen on his own face in some years. How many now?

Haruka cast back, skipping over weeks and months. He knew the time was measured in years but… He could not remember. He frowned, kneeling beside the tub, resting his arm on the edge of it to perch his chin there. Perhaps when he had first met Miho- but he could not remember that time. They had been close friends for so long, in his mind it had been an eternity, the details of how it had started were irrelevant. He remembered their first season on their island, remembered the faces and names of the men and women that chose to accompany them… but that couldn't be right; in his mind's eye there were far fewer names than faces, and even fewer stories he could recall.

Had he grown so complacent that he had ceased to care for them as he should? No, no. They were his family, the one he had chosen for himself, the one Miho had helped him assemble, all of them craving the same freedom and sense of autonomy that came of living outside imperial control, no matter that it made survival that much more difficult. He remembered the lean winters, repetitive in their nature, remembered when Miho had taught him the pearl-hunting skill that had become the keystone of their people and how easily it had come to him, like he had been born to it.

Other details were dim and hardly seemed a part of him at all: the time before their island, the days and nights they must have spent constructing their home. All gone.

Even trying to dwell on those faded details felt wrong somehow, and his thoughts constantly tried to pull him away from them. It distressed him keenly to find that he had lost so much of himself somewhere in the business of day to day living, and it had taken an abduction by corsairs to wake him up enough to realize it.

The water rippled gently, as though someone had blown a puff of air across it. Haruka reached down, skimming his finger along the top, feeling the water part to welcome him-

He started back, skittering across the floor, panting and wide-eyed with disbelief. For a split second and no more, Haruka could swear his face in the water had smiled back, something bright and a little wild, certainly nothing like a smile he had ever felt on his face before. It had distorted his features somehow, made him look something other than human. Never one to avoid danger, he slowly gathered himself up and made his way to the water's edge again.

The Haruka in the water smiled back still, but his questing fingers assured him that was not his face, his lips were thin and tight with fear whereas this creature in the water smiled with treacherous welcome.

The water rippled again, almost as though responding to his confusion, teeming with his fear and curiosity. Then the creature reached out, fingertips never quite breaching the surface but plainly intending him to reach in. Haru caught himself just before his fingertips touched the water; it gurgled and leapt, licking at him playfully like a faithful hound welcoming its master home.

"What are you?" The words were more a breath than a whisper, but he knew the creature heard him. It made a coaxing gesture with its hand, stretching out its fingers once more. There was no haste in the gesture, no desperation. The water swirled about his fingertips, imploring him to reach in just that bare centimeter farther-

The door opened and Haruka stood quickly, the reflection in the water once again mirroring only himself, naked, defiant and terribly confused.

"You're awake, good. I brought clothes." Makoto paused in the doorway, brow furrowing in a mute question as he took in the tableau: Haru halfway across the room, eyes flicking nervously between him and the tub, skin impossibly paler than normal. "Is something wrong?"

There was a glint in Haru's eyes he did not trust when at last the man answered, "No, nothing. Whose clothes am I wearing?"

"Mine. I think we are of a similar build." Mako glanced into the tub on his way past: nothing but water. There was nothing unusual, not even a few stray soap suds from the night before, yet Haruka continued to watch it with hardly even a spare glance at Mako's approach. Very unusual, and slightly disconcerting: what was it about Haru's eyes that had the hairs on his neck prickling so?

"Thank you." Haru offered meekly, no trace of acerbity in his voice; Makoto trusted that even less.

"I'll leave you to change. Come out when you're ready and I'll escort you to the galley."

"An official escort? I'm honored."

There, that was more like him, but the words seemed to come by rote. It took a concerted effort to turn his back on this new man, and even then Mako kept his ears pricked until the door was safely bolted behind him.

 

Haru hurried to the water as soon as the door closed, plunging his hand into it before he lost his nerve.

Nothing- only a splash as his hand dipped below the water. He was losing his mind: consorting with pirates, flirting with demons, imagining other selves in the water… it had been a trying few days and obviously he was not bearing up well under the strain. He stepped away briskly, nevertheless keeping a wary eye on the tub as he changed into the workaday clothes, mind churning with doubts he didn't dare voice aloud.

 

* * *

 

 

At this hour of the morning, the galley was in cheerful chaos: the cooks bellowed orders to each other across a makeshift stove where pots boiled over, wood crackling and sparking beneath from excess moisture. Haru spotted several familiar faces: the blond brat that so loved his pistols was perched in a corner, moodily watching the tall, mild man Haru blamed for his capture. The surgeon, Nitori, was in conference with the captain, steaming bowl clutched protectively to his chest, looking nothing like the frightened animal that had held a blade to Miho's throat.

Haru would have liked to return the favor, but Mako stayed close to his side, protecting his crew as much as he did his… prisoner? Pet?

What was he now? Not whatever he had been last evening, Haru was sure; he would have to decide very soon what position he intended to occupy aboard this ship until his departure.

The captain- Rin- caught sight of them and quickly excused himself, making his way across the floor to stand before them. Haruka locked eyes with him and found he couldn't look away: he remembered clear as any painted print what they had done last night, knew every bruise beneath that artfully disarranged shirt, could guess at the minor aches and pains cramping the man's muscles. Yet Rin looked at him as though he was still a hostile stranger.

For reasons he couldn't explain, Haru's fingers began to twitch violently with the desire to reach out and tear the buttons on that shirt, show the crew a few of the secrets their captain kept. He wanted to touch Rin's hair, fist his hand in it again and force him to his knees, make him beg for forgiveness and mercy then fuck him until he begged for something else entirely. Rin's eyes said he knew all this. The taunting smile that settled on his lips dared Haru to step out of line.

Tonight, he consoled himself, tonight he would act out every fantasy he had and hopefully rid himself of this unexpected and thoroughly inconvenient lust.

"Captain." Makoto. He had crumpled so easily at a few quiet words from his captain, and even now Haru's arms remembered the banked strength he had felt beneath that deceptively slender frame as they tangled together. He wanted that again too.

He wanted. Haru clenched his teeth and swallowed tightly, wondering at this new tightness beneath his skin, the heat pooling in his belly and the violence that set his muscles to spasming. He wanted to injure as much as he wanted to soothe, but then he was quite certain it was an impulse both of these men understood very well.

"Makoto." Rin smiled, "Ha. Ru. Ka." He smiled all the wider seeing the way Haru bridled at his cajoling tone.

"Bold move, captain, leaving me alone in your quarters."

"Did it upset you, waking alone?" Rin tutted mockingly, ignoring the warning glance Mako shot him over Haru's shoulder.

"Yes." Haru stated simply, laughing inside at the way Rin's eyes widened with surprise. "I wasn't near through with you yet."

Rin's eyes narrowed, smile taking on a promising edge, "Mako and I were just saying the same thing this morning."

"Rin." Makoto's quiet voice would not be ignored. Rin finally glanced away and Haru felt like he could breathe again, whatever peculiar spirit gripped him subsided little by little.

"I'll need you to accompany me after breakfast, Makoto. Rei has already prepared his report."

"Aye, sir." Mako chimed, light and unconcerned once more. They exchanged a glance that Haru couldn't read, though he sensed there was a whole conversation contained within it; then Rin was gone, sweeping out of the mess to go about his business.

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Are there fleas aboard ship, Rei?"

Rei frowned, tapping his finger on the map to mark his place. "No, sir, not to my knowledge."

"Then why are you twitching like a madman?" Rin snapped, annoyed and out-of-sorts ever since that thoroughly unfulfilling encounter with Haru in the mess. If he could but start the morning again, he would wake Mako and they could in turn wake Haru together.

"Sorry, sir." Rei glanced back down, not even blushing slightly at Rin's needling. Odd. His crew was in a fey mood today but Rin was at a loss to explain it. Mako was subdued, Haru was cooperative, unshakable Rei was fidgeting worse than Rin's little sister the first time he had helped her into a dress and Nagisa hadn't picked a fight with anyone over breakfast. Nitori had even emerged from his lair to eat with the common folk, though Rin suspected that had been a ploy to corner him and demand payment.

Still, a happy surgeon was a capable surgeon, and seeing as Nitori had finally embraced his position aboard ship Rin saw no reason not to reward him accordingly. With the caveat that his own sharp tongue would cut his throat if he was not more careful.

Rei cleared his throat, tracing a line across the map already designated in red. "If we can catch the current, we might make Sanctuary by tonight, likely by early morning, but with the ship in this condition I am not satisfied it would be wise, captain."

"I understand your concern, but that is my standing order. I mean to make Sanctuary as fast as mortal means can take us."

"And I believe it can be done, but-"

At last Makoto put in an appearance, Haru trailing at his heels. It made Rin uncomfortable, having the man here to see the damage he had inflicted, learning their plans and doubtless making plots within plots of his own, but obviously leaving him on his own had been a grave miscalculation the first time. Nothing for it but to adjust and keep him under some semblance of control until they reached the relative safety of neutral territory.

"But?" Rin prompted, unwilling to be interrupted.

"But as it stands, repairs will be costly and will take precious time. If she's damaged any more, our purse will be that much lighter and the time… Captain Mikoshiba will certainly catch us up regardless, however-"

"Don't concern yourself with Sei, I have him handled." With Sei nothing was ever that simple, but Rin disliked hearing a member of his own crew give that man his rank. He respected Sei as a captain, certainly, and a clever foe, but of all his men he trusted Rei the least. He still had the air of a naval officer about him, and Rin suspected he always would.

Rei seemed to sense this and corrected himself immediately, "Sei will catch us up, however there's no need to give him more time than necessary to find us."

"Let him find us. No officer will ever set foot on Sanctuary." It was neutral ground, and all too often that translated to pirate's haven. Good men avoided it like the plague.

Makoto didn't seem as certain, eyeing the map at Rei's side. "I share Rei's concern, but this is no time for uncertainty. I will draw up an estimate of what we should need- I'll be in charge of negotiations, of course?"

"Of course. I expect you to function as my liaison while I- " Rin glanced tellingly at Haru and reconsidered his words, "Tend to other matters."

Mako nodded with satisfaction, face lighting up once more to cast off the pall that seemed to have settled over him at dawn. Rin heaved a quiet sigh of relief; he needed every man in top form for these coming days, particularly the one he kept at his side.

"Rei, coordinate with Nagisa and see to it you have a working list of everything we need in the armory. Nitori has a handful of requests I expect you to make note of, you will accompany Makoto as quartermaster."

"Aye, sir." Rin arched a brow at the stiff tone, but Rei's features were so perfectly neutral he couldn't discern what emotion prompted it. Evidently Mako could, he appeared devilishly amused. Rin resolved to ask him later, preferably in the comfort of their cabin once they had worn Haru out.

He glanced in the man's direction, skin prickling with the awareness of being watched. At first glance Haru appeared to be studying the picture they made, eyes flickering everywhere but not settling on anyone for a significant amount of time, his gaze had turned inward and Rin could read the lines of heavy thought on his brow. Plotting, or still sorting through the ramifications of last night as he was?

Rin shook his head, forcefully coming back to himself, "Then you are all dismissed. Rei, if you would deliver a message to Nagisa he'll take lookout while you take inventory."

Rei bowed slightly, a more formal gesture than Rin had seen from him in years, "Aye, sir."

There was something strange happening aboard this ship, and it could all be traced back to the night he had brought Haru aboard. Rin narrowed his eyes, studying Haru anew; all that was left to determine now was whether the man was a boon or a curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shamelessly asking for concrit here:
> 
> Did anyone feel that Mako's flashbacks were a little too much exposition? I get that sense, but I was hesitant to alter it because it's remained pretty much the same since I've drafted the outline. (And every time I change an answer on a test it screws me over in the end *Facepalm*)
> 
> Why do I ask? General improvement for one, but also because I'm only about 3/4ths the way through Mako's final little flashback and I don't want to make the same mistake twice.
> 
> So, I guess in essence what I'm asking is: Was that too long and dry? I've been working without a beta for the past couple chapters so I could use another set of eyes (or several).
> 
> Also, I just kinda glanced at the comment/kudo count today and my mind boggled a little. For the record, I love all of you and my congratulations/thanks to every one that actually managed to stick with it despite these absurdly long blanks between updates. Almost there!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for this fandom, and concrit will always be welcome and appreciated. :)
> 
> Please also note that updates may be sporadic; I'm taking a heavy course load this semester and I'm working on a few stories at once.


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